The other morning, as Jeff was leaving for work, I heard him, out on the patio, yelling to Bella: "Bella, Over Here!" "Bella, No." "Bella, Aagh, Here!"
I HAD to go see. There was a largish "Rodent-Of-Unusual-Size" under the grill, and they were trying get it. They did at last flush it from under the grill cover, and corner the doomed varmint by the patio step.
Before the corpse was buried, I let Bella check it out.
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