I Double-Dog Dare Ya

Hey! I'm back! And with not a little bit of shaming from a couple of parties...

Anyway, we've got my sister-in-law's dog, Nesta, visiting us while his owner is in Arizona at her sister-in-law's baby's christening. Nesta is a big, sweet, German Shepherd-Chow, etc. mix, and to my yorkie-accustomed eyes, he's HUGE. I realize a ba-jillion people have two or more dogs, and I'm waxing on about something that is so not even an issue to so many people, but I grew up only having one pet at a time, and having another dog in our house, particularly one so different in size from ours, is a fun experience. Although, it's clear that I am not used to being around a big dog.
First off, a confession: as I was putting dishes in the dishwasher, I accidentally bonked Nesta on the mouth with the dishwasher door. I felt like total scum and apologized for two minutes. He seemed fine, but still. I felt awful. Smoky can walk under the dishwasher door when it is all the way down - hitting anyone with it never even occurred to me! Another size issue I still haven't adjusted to: when I threw away the breadcrusts from my sandwich (because I am, in fact, in Kindergarten) I just tossed them on the top of the garbage of our medium-sized, no lid garbage can; Nesta deftly whiffed them right into his mouth and thanked me for not making him even have to bend over like he does at his food bowl. Oops! At least it was just bread.
But now they have joined forces and together, have figured out how to absolutely take over the household and any will of my own has been tossed out the window like so many breadcrusts into a dog's mouth. I stayed home from church this morning due to some side effects from a medication I am taking (more on that later, perhaps) and was trying to quietly, restfully nurse a headache. Richard had already let both dogs out multiple times, they had all been fed, all needs had been met. Except not really. About thirty minutes after Richard left, Nesta started whining a bit. He walked over to me and I scratched his ears, etc, thinking that he was needy for some attention. Attention duly given, I pulled my hand in to try and sleep. The whining resumed. I petted again. The whining came back and then roiled into a bark. Okay, okay, more petting! Well, now Smoky was into it, and I'm petting a dog with each hand. But Smoky started barking - so Nesta started barking. Now they're both barking for no good reason other than, it seems, the acoustics are nice in our bedroom. I let them out, back in, get them quieted down, and I attempt to rest again. In three more minutes, they are both barking again, and then they both begin pacing around the room. They will not be appeased! Until, that is, I went and got Smoky's leash. "That's it!" they said, "and we promise not to be quiet until you've walked us!" What choice did I have? None, I tell you. So walk we did, and that seemed to do the trick. They're both chillaxing quietly on bed and doggy-pallet, respectively. For now.