My wife and I spent Saturday out at Dunnet Regional Park near Avonlea for a family function. We were both a little whooped by the time we got home at around 5:30, but there would be no rest. Within half an hour we went from a house of one dog, who was resting quite comfortably when we got home, to a house of 3 dogs that apparently had no off button.

Our neighbours were off to the Rider game on Saturday and wanted us to watch their dog until they got home at about 8:30. Her name is Harley. That one we knew about.

On the way home from Avonlea we found out we’d be looking after another dog. His name is Danny and we’d have him overnight. We didn’t know how this would all play out, but we had a feeling we’d have 3 dogs full of p*** and vinegar, and we were right.

I spent most of the evening sitting on the deck playing referee.

Harley, who is usually the dog that never stops, wanted nothing to do with the other two. He spent most of the evening sitting under my lawn chair watching the other dogs wear themselves out.

Max and Danny, on the other hand, were having quite a time. They’d have their faces next to each other with their mouths wide open and growling while doing a slow dance around each other. I didn’t know whether they were playing or getting ready to kill each other.

Danny turned out to be a rather frisky dog who definitely wanted to have his way with Max. For the better part of the night I was constantly yelling out, “Danny, would you get off of Max.” He just couldn’t stop himself. “Danny, I told you to stay off my dog.” “Danny, if I have to tell you one more time.” “Danny, don’t make me come over there.” I was starting to sound like my dad.

Needless to say, Max was one happy dog after we dropped Danny off at home the next morning. He was also a very tired dog. He didn’t move much that day, and isn’t that what Sunday’s are all about?