When Your Dog Door Meets Its Match

So this happened this morning. I’m making my coffee, enjoying the quiet before the kids wake up, when I hear this scraping, scratching commotion coming from the kitchen.

When Your Dog Door Meets Its Match

I turn around to find Biscuit attempting to navigate what appears to be half a tree through our doorway.

The face of zero regrets

The look on his face was pure golden retriever optimism - like if he just tried hard enough, the laws of physics would bend to his will. This is the same dog who once tried to bring a traffic cone home from our walk, so I really shouldn’t be surprised.

The full scope of the situation

The full scope of the situation was honestly impressive. This wasn’t just a stick, people. This was a legitimate branch that probably required him to drag it across three yards.

Mission accomplished, apparently

Eventually he figured out that dropping it was the only solution, and now he’s sitting there looking incredibly pleased with himself. The stick is still in my kitchen. Marcus will deal with it when he gets back from his run, because I’m not touching that thing. Biscuit, meanwhile, has already moved on to his next project: staring at the treat cabinet with laser focus.