I have dogs, and they're good dogs. Well, one of them is a good dog, the other...not so much. But all in all, they're well-behaved, great-tempered dogs.
Because my canines are good canines, and Hubs and and I are DEFINITELY the pack leaders, Good Dog & Bad Dog do everything we tell them to, and never disobey the rules.
So even though one of our rules is NO DOGS ON THE FURNITURE, and even though when I leave in the morning my living room looks like this:
And when I come home it looks like this:
I'm positive my dogs have nothing to do with it. Weird. I blame the Chupacabra.