Real dogs don't squeak

Staffer Mom's been home for a couple days. And while we like the decent service we're getting, she's really cramping our style. We have to stay in the yard and we have to stop barking at things we can't see or Ernie or George.
Today we discovered the side neighbor Jane has a new puppy named Tia. It's a 12-week-old chihuahua that would fit in our smallest food dish. She lets it run around on a leash outside her front door. It seemed nice enough, and all we wanted to do was say hello. We swear.
Anyway, the little mouse-looking thing thought we were going to eat it and it squeaked really loud and its staff came running out. Staffer Mom came running from the yard, and it got really out of hand. The little thing was shaking like creme-colored Jell-o, and Maggie thinks it peed on itself when it saw Bandit. We don't know what happened after that because Mom made us go in the house and stay on the porch.
Here's the thing: If it's really a dog, it needs to act like one. It didn't even have fur.

OK, this is weird

From Bandit: Mom's been home all day so far. This is pretty cool. She's letting us stay out on the porch and sleep on the big pillows. Maggie's going to spoil it, though. She's barked at the tree trimmers down the street, me, the bug spray man, a bird outside, me, Something We Heard in the Bushes But Couldn't See, a lizard, and me. Mom's going to park her in the laundry room any minute. I just hope she'll let me stay out. I'm being good. I promise.

Outside, inside

From Maggie: Well, we've been on the porch or outside all weekend. Mom came home early Friday, and we got to go outside early to play. We chased some squirrels, visited George the Neighbor and had a lot of fun in the back yard. Bandit went into the bushes, but never could figure out what was in there making a lot of noise. We tried to talk to it, but it wouldn't answer.

I guess Mom thought we were too noisy because she made us sit on the porch for the rest of the afternoon and took Ernie the Cat inside with her. She wouldn't let us in at all. Ernie made faces at us through the window. I'll get him for that later. I know where he likes to hide things, and it'd be too bad if they smelled like dog pee when comes to get them.

Godzilla! No wieners!

It's Ernie the cat: Yep, it's my turn. Wiener dogs are outside, and I'm inside. (Purr.) Mom threw them on the porch because they wouldn't quit yapping. She came home early from work yesterday with a stomach virus. (I figured that out when I jumped on her stomach and she nearly launched me across the room.)
She thought she'd let the dogs have some outside playtime since she was home, but they yapped at George the Neighbor, squirrels, a school bus, Something They Heard in the Bushes But Couldn't See, and the ceiling fan. She made them stay on the porch until dad came home.
I got to stay with her on the sofa, since she was feeling really bad.
She felt better when she realized that there were 5 Godzilla movies free on cable this month and one of them was Godzilla vs. MechaGodzilla -- it has a visit from Mothra and the twins as well as a psychic who can communicate with the big spikey guy.
I'm on mom's lap, the wieners are outside and there's a Godzilla movie on.
All is right with the world. (Purr.)