LOUIE HAS A BAD CASE OF THE . . .
Thank dog we have an open-plan house; after sleeping during most of the drive home (about 30 minutes), he came into the house with all four feet movin'. The Skrenninger Pack didn't know what to make of this blur, which only stopped to chomp on Daisy's tail or boot, or the place where Rico's "naughty bits" used to be, or take a nip at Cari's leg. Let me give you a hint: We have four Cairns, all of whom play with each other to varying degrees (even RosieVi the Shy has been known to do a playwave; she isn't quite up to a playbow yet). NOT ONE of 'em wants to play with Zoomie Louie! We take him to the dogs's bathroom area, where he promptly pees ("Good Boy, Louie!"); I keep him on lead 'cause it's dark and who knows where he'd find to hide in our yard, which has never had such a small puppy in it before. Best to wait 'til daylight and check for escape holes before letting him loose. So I crate him in my room. He howls. He cries. He screams. He p**ps. He yowls. He catterwauls. After about 30 minutes of this, he sleeps. And so do we all . . .
	. . . until Sunday Morning, when the Early-Morning Demon Dog decides he's had enough sleep, thank you.
With a ZoomieDog, all you can do . . . . . . is snap away . . . . . . and hope you get a good picture . . . . . . or two . . . . . . but you soon discover . . . . . . that photos don't do cuteness full justice. He tires of the flashie thingie & his toys. . . . . . and leaves to explore the house . . . . . . looking for other mischief to get into.

CONTINUE WITH
OCTOBER'S TREATS HERE