I'm gonna kill somebody.

Actually I'm going to kill something. Two of them.

As many of you know, my sister's dog, Buffy, stayed here in Texas with us when she moved to Oregon. She is joined by Oreo, a mut someone pawned off on us last year.

Aside from terrorizing guests, escaping as often as possible and destroying the back yard, these two dogs are relatively harmless (Daniel would add "useless" to the adjectives).

But in the past week they've been especially busy. Last week they somehow got into the pool room and decided to take out chunks of the love seat with their teeth.

Then Wednesday, Daniel was working on a mower and he had to go pick up a part. When he comes back, one of the dogs (most likely Oreo), had chewed through a $200 wiring harnesses, taking the mower completely out of commission.

Then comes today, when they escaped from the back yard for the third time this week. Later, I'm trying to get a bent blade off of a mower with the dogs constantly putting their noses on the back of my neck while I work.

I finally get the blade off, only to find out I don't have the right size on hand. I call my supplier and go to pick up four blades and come back to put one on and get some work done.

As I lay on the ground to put the blade on, I suddenly realize I can't bolt it on because the bolt is missing....I look up to see the two terrrors, wagging their pink tongues at me in mocking laughter.

I look at the rather large back yard and wonder how in the world I'm going to find the bolt. Knowing them, I figured they probably went and plunked the bolt into the pool and then wanted to sit back and watch the show.

Thankfully, I found the bolt after about three minutes of searching.

*sigh*

My patience is wearing thin.