Last night we had family make a late arrival due to airport delays. It was far past midnight, and our sweet niece Elizabeth was bleary eyed and so very tired when they arrived at the house. And that's when Mabel, gated in the den for every one's inner-ear safety, began to lose her mind.
Mabel howled and barked and skittered around on her toenails, behaving quite inhospitably. Poor sweet Elizabeth, already exhausted, looked around in confusion.
"Puppy?" she asked, bottom lip quivering, her big blue eyes concerned.
"Yes, that's a puppy," her mom responded.
Elizabeth glanced around the house as Mabel's shrieks echoed maniacally from the den.
"Puppy?" she asked again, obviously concerned that my demon dog would strike at any moment.
"Yes, that's a very rude puppy," I muttered to myself, wishing desperately we'd invested in a muzzle.