The evening of Melissa's birthday we ate at The Chop House to celebrate. This was probably the nicest restaurant I've ever been too. People were there to fill your water after every drink. Somebody brushed the crumbs off the table between courses. When the food came out the waiters held it high above the table, looked at each other, nodded, then slowly lowered it down in front of us.
My meal came with a steak bone, and we decided to let nothing of the meal go to waste. We gave the bone to Malachi. She enjoyed it very much, however her stomach did not. That night it stormed. At 4am Malachi started barking. We yelled to be quiet thinking she was barking at the thunder. She persisted, so at 4:30 I went to check on her. I saw the poor girl standing on the only little dry patch left on the bottom of her cage. For the next 3 days she had no control of #2. It was day and night doggie do do. We nearly ran out of bleach, and used a lot of carpet cleaner. We set paint tarps all the way from her cage in the basement to the back slider. What an awful mess. I'm very glad to have that situation behind me, and plan to give her no more bones. Ever.
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