Really, look at me. I'm just that sweel little warm, brown, fuzzy puppy that rode home from Louisiana in your lap. I'm not a b.d. (bad dog). Now, look Mom, just because I've learned to climb over the baby gate on one side of the kitchen and then push aside the stand alone gate when you leave doesn't mean I'm a b.d. Come on, give me credit. I thought it was pretty smart. And I didn't do anything while I was loose in the house.
No, it was that silly little Blossom dog who went under the gate after I got out and then she proceeded to shred your Sunday paper. So don't blame me for that. She was also the one that did the poop in the dining room, I know it was her, she did it! It's not my fault, I didn't do it!