Men are dogs, Opps i mean men and dogs.

Damon has been a rascal since i have gotten back from Baltimore. I give a command and he runs to my husband or son, and ignores me, completely. Unless i have food! A couple days after i was home, Damon and my son Dan were, wrestling, for lack of a better term on the carpet. Damon tore his pants, grabbed his shoes, and bit at his arm and my son was laughing. I could shout but it would do no good, Damon was having none of it, he wanted to play. Usually they are outside for a bit of roughhousing, but in the house a 170 lb boy and a 80+ lb dog can create a lot of mischief. when they almost knocked me over, i ordered them outside. My son was upset, saying that Damon did not have enough exercise today since it was raining. Fine, it's not raining now, get outside! They play outside for a while and them my husband brings Damon in and starts throwing the ball in the house; against the floor, wall, and furniture. ARRRGGG!!!! What the hell are you doing? I shout. My husband then informs me that the dog needs exercise, as he throws the ball again into the hallway and Damon bounds after it. I give up, I'm going for a walk.