Working Dogs

On my day off I should be able to sit in the recliner wearing my grubby jammies and watching mindless TV until mid afternoon, I mean it is my house. But Willy and Marco were staring at me. There they were, right out side my patio windows, looking in longingly all bug eyed and limp tongued, filling my precious time alone with guilt. It was not me, the two of them wanted however, but I would do.
I walked over to the door and opened it. "Come on boys, get in here." In danced the pair happy for my company. Willy and Marco are the neighbors little mutts, and when their "boys" head off for school, they go in search of replacement boys.
Their idea of a good time didn't involve cable.
I didn't feel like frisking around the yard right then so I took them into the kitchen for a snacky snack.
When I opened the fridge door, out toppled the open can of cranberry's left over from Thanksgiving and hit Willy smack on his little terrier head.
"YIP", exclaimed Willy in surprised pain.
"Yip", agreed Marco with Willy being the alpha canine and all.
"Shit." I said. "Now I have to clean this rotter out."
Now I have a very detailed and organized method to clean out the fridge that consists of three categories.

THINGS THE DOGS CAN EAT

THINGS THAT CAN EAT THE DOGS

SAVABLES

We were making good progress on this undertaking, after I made sure Marco licked all the blood colored cranberries off Willy's head, until I knocked over what I think was a large container of chili off one of the upper shelves to splatter over the bottom of my fridge.

I stood there a while angerly cursing the mess I had created while the dogs sat and looked up at me with their heads tilted sideways and their ears perked up expectantly.

"Boys. You got me into this. If you can clean each other, you can clean my fridge."

I'll let them out soon.