Can't keep a good dog down

Dogs really are a man's best friend...or a woman's.
In the interest of spending time with his masters, Scout is truly feeling the strain of home improvement. Not only is he getting yelled at a lot to stay off the floor (with the wet grout), stop smelling the paint on the walls, and a wet saw is not an animal that is waiting to attack, but I noticed the other day that he's wearing a lot of the home improvements. He has grout stuck to his rear from sitting and watching me tile the floors, orange paint on his tail from rejoicing with me when we finally finished that 50th coat of paint (which immediately needed touch-ups about a foot off the ground...stupid tail) and I think he's experiencing the same bloody nose phenomenon that Rob and I are currently enjoying thanks to all the harmfull chemicals we're breathing. Ahh, life is grand.
In other news, I haven't heard a peep from the mean woman who lives in our basement. (That sounds like a childrens' book waiting to happen). Either she's decided to work with us, or she's plotting to end our lives. Stay tuned, folks...