Traci Ashbe Dark Fantasy Author

Meet Opie.

He is my son’s dog. My oldest is having one of those Thanksgivings where he had to go to the in-laws’ s house. Opie doesn’t do well at the boarding kennel, and none of them really do. Guess where he is spending his Thanksgiving.

He’s well mannered and trained, unlike my heathens. He plays ball like a pro, and is not allowed on the furniture.

Don’t tell my son, but he might be developing some bad habits.

This morning, he was feeling kind of lonely and neglected. He decided to crawl up with Otto and I before I went to work.

That’s Otto’s big butt off to the left. I’m surprised I didn’t have Frankie up here, too. She elected to go to her little Frankie bed instead.

The footstool doesn’t qualify as furniture, does it? I don’t think he’s being bad at all.

Tomorrow, my in-laws will…