Okay, he's not my dog, he's my daughter's dog. A standard poodle. Go ahead, tell me how awful I am. But first consider my list of complaints: 1) He's a dog. I'm allergic to him. Severely. 2) He eats my chocolate. I have to hide it on the very top shelf in the back, where I struggle to reach it, or he will get it after first opening the pantry door. 3) He gets in my bed. He lays on it. He messes it up. Sometimes he doesn't as he merely climbs in between the sheets. I often have to re-wash my bedding before I can go to bed. (No lectures about dog/owner bed management, please. It's complicated.) Also, remember #1: I'm allergic to the dog, so having him in my bed is more than a dirty problem. 4) He dug a HOLE in my expensive mattress. And a few holes in my hand sewn quilts. 5) He insists on sleeping with a pillow. My pillow. Any of my pillows. My feather pillows. He steals them from me at night and then lays his ugly, furry, face on them. Then I have more washing to do. Not to mention a poor night's sleep wheezing, laying flat with no pillow, and a cranky neck and attitude in the morning. 6) Medication. It's hard to keep up with my daughter and the medications she wants to try on the dog to get him to sleep. (No, she doesn't poison him, but she did mention Benadryl once.) 7) Tonight, he smells especially bad. (No, it's not diarrhea from the chocolate.) He must have rolled in the neighbor's llama poop, just before he climbed in my bed and laid his ugly, furry face on my feather pillows. My daughter suggested I should sleep in the dog house with a sleeping bag and a duck. I'm offering this dog at a starting bid of $0.99. Going, going, dog gone!