Batdog

We came back from boating, and this is what our bedroom looked like.

Clues: Doolie greeting us in the driveway when we know we left him in the house, the open window sans screen, a toppled chival mirror, my jewelry and lotions totaled all over the dresser and the floor, and finally, the many tall and deep vertical grooves decorating the inside of the door and the door frame.

Conclusion: Doolie got locked in our room. Sherlock has nothin' on us. Have no idea what the whole dresser thing was about or why he was even in our room, but he so ninjaed out the window. I went outside to see how far it really is, and it's a really decent jump. Fall, actually.

Did he hear a noise that piqued his curiosity? Did he follow the cat in there? Was he thirsty? Or nosey? Or just thorough in his watch of the whole house?

We'll never know. We do know that the wind often shuts our door, and the noise can be frightening because it seems to happen so suddenly.

Messes are no fun to clean up, but nothing was broken, and it tidied up pretty quickly. I found myself feeling so sorry for Doolie. No one around for comfort or reassurance, Guido in the garage, and his fine desire to please now hacked. Poor guy... It'll probably be the only time a dog ever caused trouble, only to receive hugs and a jerky treat. Love that Dools.