Dog Days...

Random story of the day: My little* dog, Peyton, is such a neurotic mess that she can't stand being separated from us for longer than five minutes at a time, especially if she thinks we may be having fun without her. And while I usually find it funny that she has to be right on top of us, this has started to become a problem when Brigid's bedtime rolls around.

See, we always keep B's door closed because we don't want the cats to get in there and make themselves comfortable in the poor kid's crib. Cats shed, and it's kind of gross. And if we leave the door open for any period of time, they will come in and hide under the crib, until they can make their move.

They are sneaky little things, my cats.

So, at night, Steve and I head upstairs, with Brigid in tow, and confine ourselves to her bedroom for a good hour at a time, while B gets a bath, and we all dance to Gaga for awhile. And Peyton CAN'T STAND IT!

But...well...she's found a way around all of this, because, it turns out, Peyton can open the door. Granted, it's a lever knob, and B's door does open into the room, so all the dog is doing is doing is pulling down on the lever and leaning, but still...

My dog can open doors. And she's gotten really good at it, too.

They're readying themselves for a takeover, I can feel it. We're outnumbered by the animals, and they're going to win. If I disappear from this space any time in the future, at least you'll all know what happened to me.

Unless she also knows how to type, too. Then you'll never even know that I am gone...

*It should be noted that 'little' is a relative term here. Yes, she's smaller than our 50lb dog, but she's getting pretty close to the 30lb mark, herself, so she's a little tubby. Someone needs to stop eating two different dinners every night, I guess...

Tank: Target

Cardigan: Macy's

Jeans: Michael Kors

Shoes: Cole Haan