Today when I arrived home from work, I found that our dog Rusty had once again escaped from the laundry room and made his way into the rest of the house. He had chewed up one of the water dishes, a wooden spoon, a few bath toys, and four plastic bags. The damage done wasn't anything major, but my hams were still a little steamed. Then, as I went to get him from under our bed (where he hides when he knows he is in trouble), I saw the grizzly murder scene.
