Out of control

If any of you ever drop by Bad Dog Central, and begin to notice odd little piles of ammo here and there...



It's not some crazy paranoia thing. I am not under the impression that we're going to end up in a situation where I need 50 loose rounds of super-quiet .22 while digging through my desk, or 20 rounds of 7.62x39 while doing laundry.



No. It's that I have Jack the Black Puppy. And apparently, there is nothing on earth more fabulously yummy than the cardboard boxes they pack ammo in.

[sigh]

Both of those were today. I should have snapped a shot last summer when he snagged 50 rounds of 9mm and took it out in the yard to devour the packaging. Making the yard safe mowing was like an Easter Egg hunt, only creepier.