And This for the Chinese Takeout Crowd. . .

I never knew dogs could tattle.
Charlie, it turns out, is a right yappy little tattle tale. A couple Christmases ago, I put DaBoys in their crate but didn't latch the door properly. The kids were home, and we all trooped upstairs to bed. About a half hour later, Charlies started barking his head off.
When I came downstairs to see what all fuss was, there was Charlie still under his blanket in the crate. Sammy, however, had apparently pushed the door open and walked around. I found him cowering under the dining room table in a doggie fetal position: ears back, tail tucked under.
He knew he'd done something wrong and his brother was telling on him.
Yesterday, Ken was in the kitchen making dinner when Charlie started yapping. Big, energetic yapping. When he went in the living room to see what was up, there was Charlie yapping so hard his little front feet came up off the floor with each yap. And Sammy? He was walking along the back of the couch trying to disappear into the cushions because in our house, you see, DaBoys aren't allowed on the couch.
Aha.
Ken said it was like Matt and Annie when they were little, only furrier.
This morning I went outside to sweep the porch and water plants. All of a sudden, I hear Charlie yapping furiously. I turned around to see the front window draperies moving around like the stage draperies do at a school play when some little kid can't find the opening. And then, I saw this:See that little paw?
It's resting on the back of the couch. And I swear Charlie was doing his Superiority Strut when I went back in the house.
They're just like kids. Except I can't ground Charlie for being a tattle tale. Guess I just have to live with the fact that one of my dogs is a busybody. I think I'll change his name to Mrs. Kravitz, like the nosy neighbor in the old "Bewitched" series.
Who knows - maybe Sammy will learn how to twitch his nose so he never gets caught on the couch again.