That when mom's away, the golden will lay - wherever he wants! If it's not my couch, it's my bed. At least once a week I come home to a drool spot on the cushion of my micro suede couch. But catching him in the act has been nothing short of a challenge. As soon as my keys jingle at the door, he promptly returns all fours to the floor where they belong. Just in the nick of time, as I put one foot over the threshold, he has successfully restored the Mr. Innocent face from the look of guilty pleasure he wore just moments prior. He hasn't fooled me; even the cutest of faces is laced with a hint of guilt.
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