I was home sick on Monday, and while I didn't spend the entire day staring out the window at the neighbor yard--I actually spent none of the day staring out the window--I still neither saw nor heard any evidence that a dog actually lives next door.
And while that's quite nice for us--the boys go out whenever they want, they mill around, they do figure 8s around the trees and bushes at top speed (well, Riley does), they eat a little grass, they come in again, kings of the neighborhood, lords of the universe--it can't be nice for Abigail. Do her owners simply never let her out? Whisk her in and out through a secret door, like Dick Cheney?
For some reason, I'm feeling a bit guilty about this. We won! We won! But we never wanted there to be a battle in the first place.
At some point, the training will commence but I can't train Riley not to bark at her if he never sees her ...
(Photo of Boscoe from last January. Added just because he's so cute.)