Recently I have been finding a French Man in the house.
Since ferocious barking did not put him off coming here I made a decision to train him and now I have an excellent situation whereby he plays Tugger with me ON DEMAND (!) and plies me with ham at lunchtime.
I think I'll keep him.
FP brought me into the study this evening and pointed to a perfectly un-ripped apart trash bin. Then she made a big fuss of me and I felt marvellous - I am a good dog! Oh, hang on. I see what she's playing at: No ripping out trash bins = Nunu Good Dog.
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