By Gina and Stephen Bull
Scotty and Sybil watched with great interest as Mom carefully closed the kitchen doors. "Bye, guys!" she sang, as she waved to them. "I'm leaving for work now. You be good doggies on your first day in the kitchen."
It was Monday morning. Ever since Scotty the black-and-tan Cocker Spaniel had lived in the house on Kensington Avenue he had stayed in his crate while Mom was at work. Sybil the buff Cocker Spaniel had only lived with them for a week since she moved from Pittsburgh, and she had stayed in a crate, too. Today Mom was going to let them stay in the kitchen. This was exciting!
The front door closed with a "whump". The house got very quiet. Sybil whimpered a couple of times.
Scotty lay down in front of the big glass doors and looked out on the deck. "Nothing much going on out there, Sybil," he said. He settled his chin onto the threshold and closed his eyes for a nap. Sybil strolled over to the other end of the kitchen and lay down against the wall. Nothing much was happening inside, either.
An hour passed. Scotty had moved nap spots twice, and Sybil had moved four times. A loud truck went by, so Sybil defended the house by barking a few times. Then it got quiet again.
"Scotty, I'm so bored. This is just as boring as being in the crate all day!"
"But Sybil, we get the deck window here so we can look outside. Isn't that a lot better?"
"I suppose, but I'm still bored." She got a drink of water from the big blue and white crock. Scotty decided to have a drink, too. He dripped water on the floor, as usual. Sybil rolled her eyes at him, sighed, and flopped down in front of the cabinet.
"Boring," she mumbled.
Suddenly her chin shot up off the floor. "Scotty, I've got it!"
"What? What? Did you find another ant in front of the sink?"
"No, you dumb animal! I know a fun thing to do!"
"Oh, Sybil, just settle down and chew your rawhide bone. Look, you can steal mine and I'll pretend I don't see you do it."
"No, no, follow me over here to the basement door. Look. The folks didn't get the door closed all the way. It's kind of broken. There's a crack open and all I have to do is put my nose in and..."
Sybil pushed. The door moved an inch. Her tail wagged furiously.
"Scotty, it's working! We can get the door open! Help me!"
Scotty put his shoulder against the door and leaned. The door moved another inch. Then they pushed together and the door opened several more inches.
"We did it, Scotty! Let's go!"
The two naughty dogs tried to both go through the open door at the same time. That didn't work, so Sybil went first and Scotty followed.
"Oh, boy, Sybil! This is fun. Chase me!"
They jumped and chased all around the room. Finally Sybil decided that Scotty had slobbered on her ears enough and said, "Enough already or I'll nip you! You know I will!"
"OK, OK, I'll quit. I'm thirsty, anyway. I'm going to get a drink of water in my crate."
Sybil wandered over to the other end of the big basement room. There was light coming from an open door there.
"Scotty, look! Stephen left his playroom door open. Let's explore it."
"Uh, the boy never lets me go in there because it's a mess and he thinks I might chew something. Doesn't he have his chairs across the doorway so we can't get in?"
"You think a couple of little chairs would stop me? I could get in! But he didn't block the doorway. It's completely open!"
Scotty and Sybil stood in the doorway. Stephen's room stretched out before them. It was pretty neat, because his mom and dad had made him clean it before they went on their trip to Pittsburgh. At least, it was neat for a 10-year-old boy's room.
"Where shall we start, Scotty?"
"Wow! There's a garbage can on the floor! Let's go see what's in it!"
They scrambled over to the basket. Scotty pushed his nose into the basket and pulled out a crumpled up poster for "The Great Bulldini Magic Show". He shook it. He shook it some more. He ripped it. He put his paw on it and shredded it. He didn't stop until the pieces were too tiny to rip anymore.
Sybil found a popsicle stick. That was great for chewing!
Scotty investigated the shelves by the trash basket. "Look, Sybil, there's a plastic can here with a lid on it. I'll bet it rolls good."
They batted the little plastic can around. Then Sybil noticed that she could get a tooth under the lip of the lid. She worried it. She chewed at it. It came off. She killed it. She carried it out of the playroom and ran upstairs with it. Halfway up the stairs, it slipped out of her mouth and fell over the edge, plop on top of Scotty's crate.
"Oops, lid overboard!"
Meanwhile, Scotty was rolling the can around. He nibbled at the rim. There was PlayDoh in the can, and he managed to leave his tooth prints all over it. He carried it out to the big room so he could watch Sybil trying to figure out how to get the lid off the top of his crate.
"Sybil, try from inside. Uh, I guess that won't work. Try standing on your hind legs. Hmmm, can't reach it, huh? I guess you'll have to find something else to play with. Bummer!"
"I'll go see if there's anything else in that trash basket."
Sybil trotted back into the playroom, tail wagging furiously. This was the most fun she'd had in the house yet!
"Oh, boy! There's a bunch of those little wadded up things that the people make funny noises in and then get rid of just when they seem most interesting. I think they call them 'tissues'. I'm going to tear them all up and decorate the floor with them."
"Wow, can I help? I've gotten into those before, and they're fun!"
For a few minutes the playroom resembled a small blizzard. Then Scotty sat down with a thump.
"Sybil, I'm real thirsty. I need a drink of water. I'm going to go upstairs so I can get a drink out of the big dish."
Scotty galloped toward the stairs and started up. He got almost to the top when it happened.
"Oops! Oh, gee, Sybil, I had an accident right here on the top step. I couldn't help it. I guess I just got too excited. Oh, I'm in trouble now. Mom isn't going to like this at all!"
Sybil trotted up the stairs to join her partner. "You know, the Boy gets home before Mom does. Maybe he'll take care of it."
"I don't know, I don't think he'll be too happy about it, either."
The two dogs lay down to think about their plight. Before long, they were both napping hard.
Scotty woke up in the middle of the afternoon. He had played hard and run around the basement, and now he needed to poop. He really needed to go, but there wasn't anyone home to let him out.
"Pssst, Sybil, wake up!"
"Hmmm, what? Gee, how long have we been napping? Isn't it suppertime yet?"
"Sybil, I've got to 'go' bad. I mean, I don't think I can wait to go outside."
"Scotty, we have to wait. Mom doesn't like it when one of us poops in the house. She makes us go in our crates and gets all serious."
"I know, but I can't help it. I have to. I'm going over here by the door and..."
"Good grief, you know what? I'm going to join you. If we're going to be in trouble, we may as well be in big trouble."
So the two dogs completed the deed and sat down in the other end of the kitchen to wait for the Boy. It wasn't long before they heard him opening the front door. The dogs started to bark so he'd know they were doing their job.
He called out, "Sybil! Scotty! Be quiet. I'll come take you out. Hold your horses. Hold your ... Oh my goodness! What a mess! Couldn't you guys wait? Yuck! Pfewy! Go to the basement to your crates so I can clean this up."
Scotty and Sybil ran down the stairs. The Boy followed, then realized that the door was open. They must have been downstairs. Then he saw that his playroom door was open. He ran to the doorway. Destruction met his eyes.
"YOU DOGS! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO MY ROOM!"
Sybil leaped into her crate. Scotty leaped into his crate. The Boy slammed the doors closed and stood there, feeling very mad. Then the phone rang. It rang four times, then the answering machine did it's job. Mom's voice rang out, "Mom calling Stephen. Come in, Stephen."
The Boy raced up the stairs and grabbed the phone. "Mom, you should see what the dogs have done. They pooped in the kitchen and peed on the stairs and totally wrecked my playroom. They got into the basement and my room was open and ..."
He ran out of things to say. It was too awful. He'd stepped on the wet stair, and the kitchen didn't smell so good. Mom wasn't happy. She told him to clean up the messes, and leave the dogs in their crates, and pick up the trash in his room. Then she hung up the phone.
Stephen cleaned up the mess. He didn't pick up the trash in his room, though. He just closed the door. Then he worked on his homework until he heard Dad's car come down the driveway. Dad opened the door and said, "What's that smell? Open the doors and windows!"
When Mom got home, she saw all the doors open, but the furnace was running. The attic fan was whirring, trying to air out the house. The dogs were barking in their crates. Stephen was still unhappy, and hadn't gotten much of his homework done. Dad was sitting on the couch.
"They're not housebroken," he said.
Later that night, Scotty and Sybil were sacked out on the bed between Mom and Dad, who were watching TV. They were snugged up right against each other, their sides heaving in unison as they enjoyed a pre-bedtime nap. They were almost forgiven, and they had become best buddies.