Inside, outside, inside, outside

I had a feeling my days were overrun with dog duties, so I documented it.

Conclusion: Dogs rule my life.

Mr. Cool (pictured above, pre-wheelchair, at a local dog park) is so lazy he rarely makes trouble. He'd rather sleep than go outside. Or watch a movie. Or talk on the phone.

He goes outside three times a day but doesn't go by himself. We take strolls together.

Mr. Cool is leisurely. Go-with-the-flow. Slothful. 
 

The Little Weirdo standing still for once

The Little Weirdo, however, abounds with energy. The house is not able to absorb all his happiness. He must go outside or he'll explode.

Then he barks. 

He doesn't bark to come inside. He barks at squirrels. He barks at people. He barks at leaves. 

The Little Weirdo: "I love to bark."

The neighbors DON'T love him to bark.

So, I bring him inside.

According to my findings, I let him out six times in a day. When you figure he must come back inside as well, I go to the door 12 times a day in his honor.

Add Mr. Cool's trips, and you arrive at a tally of 15 times.

Is this correct? My dogs boss me around 15 times each day?

Kitty Baby: "That's why all dogs should be cats."