Stir Crazy

I warned her. "Don't chew that," I woofed. "Don't dip your nose into the trash can either. Dad's going to know it's you."

Did she listen? No.

Did she get what she wanted? No.

Did she make things worse? Yes.

We're going to be packed in stir for the rest of the week. I can feel it coming. Then when Dad does let her run this weekend, she's going to tear her ligament in half. Oh well. Sisters forever.

O.