830pm: Spend eight minutes reminding Oskar and Pippi that though they seemingly have an insatiable appetite, going after my luxuriously home-cooked meal is, quite frankly, simply rude.
1030pm: Dogs pass out after running around like maniacs for an hour.
1134pm: Oskar wakes me up. Despite my feeble, sleep-induced attempts to ignore him, I fumble my way to the kitchen assuming someone needs a potty break. Um, yeah. Ten seconds later my left foot steps into a pool of pee.
601am: Dogs are hungry.
805am: Dogs eat one of the bright yellow couch pillows.
Think they just didn't like the color?