LOL
Too true.
Here’s a story that embarrasses me to tell.
Back in the 80s I had my own “Dobe rescue” thing going, long before others did that.
I was living in a Craftsman style rental house with the obligatory “shotgun hallway”.
The 3 Dobes were out in the hallway sleeping and I was in the bedroom.
In the middle of the night, the doorknob starts rattling stealthily, as though someone out there is testing it, in preparation for breaking into the bedroom.
So, in the total darkness, I thought I’d be clever and beat them to the punch.
I silently got out of bed, slithered over to the heavy oak door, grabbed the knob and FLUNG it open.
Unfortunately, I neglected to get out of the way of said heavy oak door and flung the leading edge of it right into my left brow bone.
The blood instantly poured, I howled in agony, which woke up my sleeping husband, sending him into a blind panic.
And through the screams, the blood and his freaking out, I looked down to see Arthur the Doberman, who was just standing there, looking like he thought we were all insane.
He’d figured out doorknobs.
Still have a wicked scar on my brow bone.
followed by the head cock and the expression, "Whut? You didn't know I could do that?"
Hate when that happens...
OOPS. Apparently it’s Sally Mander.