Remember that time that Fritz was all fa-reaked out at the thought of being without me for one single second and jumped out of the yard to chase our van down the road? So we Gila Man thought it would be a good idea to leave him INSIDE the house so he could relax in air-conditioned comfort with his food and water handy in case he got the munchies?

And remember we came home after only an hour and a half to find a hole scratched in the garage door, the sensor for the garage door ripped apart,  the door jam and molding from the door leading into the garage was chewed to pieces (literally), the blinds in the front room were chewed through and nearly torn down, and the door handles were all whopper-jawed and scratched?

Yep. Good times, those.

Good times.


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