To paraphrase Oscar Wilde
To lose one dog may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.
And it was, to a certain extent. The two big dogs bolted while Fran was putting them out. I should have been handling the dogs. She should have been in bed resting her neck instead of talking on the portable phone and sneaking out the deck door for a cigarette with two big dogs. One dog has more than a bit of an ‘impulse control’ problem. And the other follows her sister everywhere. (Almost sounds like the humans...) Good thing we have a third. Dog.