It's Gone to the Dog, Maxwell Franklin Beanpotts

Sometimes I wonder if I have any business possibly being responsible for a little life one day in the future.  It's sort of irrelevant for the time being, but I do hope that my canine mothering isn't an indication of what the future could look like.  I don't neglect him and I try to be firm to keep him from hurting himself.  I play with him as regularly as I'm able to, so,  I'm not a terrible pet owner.  The issue is that he cracks. me. up.  Recently, he tore through the contents of a Tampax box that he pulled from the bathroom into the living room because, duh, where else would he do it? I got most of it away from him before he could do too much damage, but he got in a little.  I started to commit manslaughter, which at common law, is the unlawful killing of another without malice aforethought*.  Take that Bar exam.  I know one thing.  Booyah! Anyway, Mr. Beanpotts stood next to his little project and looked at me like, "Vut, joo no like? Eet ees performance aurt.  Joo are suppozed to be deesturbed!"  Seriously, that's what he sounds like.  I almost lost it.  Fortunately, I was able to maintain long enough to make sure that he got the dishes and the laundry done.

*To any law students/lawyers who feel the need to remind me that "another" only refers to human beings, remember this: people already don't like lawyers.  Let's not give them another reason, mkay?