The Dog Days of Summer

Last weekend, Mom and Dad took me down to a swimmin' hole on the Greenbrier River. We have no pictures because all the batteries were dead. I had a great time splashing in the river and watching the bigger kids swim around. Dad ran Jax and Maggie ragged throwing a stick halfway across the river. Jax would chase the stick and Maggie would chase Jax.

So we went to the river with two dogs; we came home with five. Dad says Mom has a soft spot for stray animals, which may explain Mom and Dad's relationship. Anyway, this stray puppy kept coming up to Mom and I while Dad was playing with Jax and Maggie. In fact, it curled up in my lap. She was clean, but skinny skinny skinny. Mom felt sorry for the puppy and looked at Dad with her own puppy dog eyes and he agreed to bring it home. Then the puppy's brother and sister came out of the woods after they heard that their sister had landed them a place to stay.

So now we have three stray puppies hanging around the house. They need to go. Everytime I try to crawl when they are in the room, they lick me. Not cool.

Here are the dogs. Someone take them. Please. I am supposed to be the center of attention, and I will not be displaced by any puppy or three.

Barley (Dad wants me to say sorry to Michelle and Andy for stealing their dog's name):
Bailey:
Briar, the one who found us:
We think that they are mountain feists: an Appalachian breed of squirrel huntin' dogs that are a cross between beagles, hounds, rat terriers, and kangaroos. Just kidding about the kangaroos. That was a tribute to the croc hunter.

Anyway, someone help get these puppies out of my house. When Mom and Dad weren't looking, I locked them in jail: