Dog - 2, Human - 0

I have been bested. By a dog with a tendency to tear up things.

Last week I had two jobs: watch my friend's dog, protect the bag of feathers. The second job wasn't so much explicitly communicated as generally understood seeing as how the first time I was tasked with watching the dog ended with a torn up bag of feathers. It seems, though, I am good at neither because on the third day of dog watching, my first day back at work, I returned home to find a few feathers scattered on the staircase and one million plus feathers strewn about the living room with a very proud Siberian Husky standing in the middle. Exasperate and clearly defeated I didn't know what to do. So I sat down on the couch and played some Call of Duty. The cats, meanwhile, threw up.

And then we all went out for ice cream.