The house shakes, the earth moves. Okay, they must be blasting at the limestone quarry down the road, although they don't usually do it this early in the morning.
And Harriet, the dumbest dog I've ever had in my entire life, freaks out, blasts right through the dog gate, and runs headlong into me spilling four gallons of water on the rug.
Harriet (L) and Lizzie (R)
Insert naughty words here.
At least it was clean water. The rug has seen worse, believe me.
Hmmm, about three cop cars just went screaming down the highway. Maybe it wasn't blasting at the quarry after all . . .