Daisy strikes again...

Picture this: I'm standing in my room, bending over (YEAH!) to get something out of the bottom drawer of my dresser. My dad is downstairs letting the dogs outside. Suddenly I hear what sounds like a herd of elephants galloping down the hallway toward my room. Daisy tears through the door, takes a flying leap onto my bed, runs to the end against the wall, turn around, and takes another flying leap off the bed and runs out the door. I yell, "Daisy, what the HELL are you doing?!" as she bounds down the hallway back toward the living room. In the aftermath of this attack, I steal a glance at the clean, light purple sheets I just put on my bed the day before yesterday. Much to my dismay, I discover muddy fucking paw prints all over them. Son of a bitch! Will her reign of terror never end? At least she didn't destroy another pair of my underwear...I'm guarding them with my life. Don't let her little sad, adorable face as she sits quietly with my dad in that picture fool you. She is Daisy the Destroyer!