Dog - 1 Dogsitter - 0

At left is a photo of our 100-pound puppy, Booda. I also originally had a photo here of my friend Bess, but it was not the most flattering shot, and in the interest of my personal safety, I have substituted another photo to represent her for the purposes of this blog entry. Now, back to the story. Bess has watched our dogs for us on numerous occasions when we have been out of town, typically without incident. Sadly, that was not the case this past weekend when the missus and I went on a short trip. Oh, the dogs are fine. Bess, not so much. Booda is generally an easygoing guy. He's a perfect gentleman when I take him to the office, and he's well-behaved when we have company. He does like to roughhouse with Jenny and me, as most puppies do, but he seems to have no idea that he's grown into a monster, and he can be a bit overwhelming, particularly with Jenny, who sometimes finds it difficult to fend off his chewy advances. Enter Bess, who is close to being smaller than the dog. Exit Bess, who, being a sane person, no longer has any interest in subjecting herself to Booda. When the weekend was over, despite her best efforts to occupy Booda with sticks, bones and toys, Bess apparently looked a lot like the loser in one of those old NWA Wrestling cage matches. Booda, noticing that I wasn't around to monitor his behavior, seemed to view Bess as some sort of walking, talking chew toy. Needless to say, we are aghast at his misbehavior and the treatment we have subjected our friend to. We are sorry. He is sorry. I have beaten him. His mother has beaten him. Kidding. That's dialogue from an old "Leave It To Beaver" episode. But we are sorry. And Booda, miraculously, has been on his best behavior since our return. I'm not really sure that he's sorry. It's probably just as likely that his big, slobbery jaws need a rest.