Super Man & Underpants

Whilst up north daboyz and I assaulted the Mr. continously with demands for a new pet. Actually, before we went up north Mac and I forced said Mr. to check out three different pet stores. He stands firm, no more pets! Probably! Maybe a smallish dog! Ok, we'll get a dog!
So we went to a pet shop and chose a kitten.
The Mr. does not want a cat, kitten or otherwise. He is allergic. Wimp. Mac thinks that this is an emotional cat reaction or else his dad is faking just to make us sad. The particular cat in question was named Candy (that must change immediately!) and was very sweet and lonesome hermetically sealed in the Petsmart Adopt-a-Pet box. Mac and I asked if we could simply rub Candy on him to see if he had a reaction. He refused. Jerk.
So up north we went badgering him with pet demands. We thought a cat would be fun because we've never had one and they are rather lower maintenance than a dog being that we are all coming and going constantly around here. He still refuses to even consider the cat rub test.
When we got to the cottage there were dogs a'plenty as they run free around Moon Lake and hang out at whatever cottage seems the friendliest at the moment. In particular this year were two dogs that were having a grand time together. A golden retriever and a white Jack Russell looking thing. Not knowing their names, we immediately dubbed them Super Man and Underpants respectively.
Being currently dogless we were hungry for a little canine company and so when Super Man and Underpants went whipping past the front windows, I went outside and called them with the internationally recognized dog call, "Hey you guys!"
They stopped immediately and came up on the porch for a little visit. They were very wet and smelly having recently gone swimming in Moon Lake. Super Man's long hair was muddy and caked but Underpants, being shorter-furred was drying more quickly. Super Man was clearly the senior of the duo and immediately settled in to bond with us by falling straight to sleep in mid-pet. Mac immediately fell in love with him.
Underpants was still quite the puppy and trotted around the porch and eventually, into the cottage. Don't tell my mom.
The Mr. gave them each a marshmallow. Super Man rolled around on his and fell back to sleep without indulging. Underpants ate both. They enjoyed a bowl of cold water. Don't tell my mom that either. (And mom, if you're reading...guess which bowl they drank from? Heh heh heh)
Later that day they came back 'round for another visit clomping onto the porch and appearing in the sliding glass doors. But! What's this then? Bloody paw prints! Underpants is injured! After several minutes of discussion and close assessment, we decided he was strong enough to walk it off but not before trailing red Underpants prints all over the porch. I think you'd dance a Cha Cha if you went out there and followed them. Off they went for more adventures.
I hosed off the porch and the prints pretty much faded away. Later in the day the pair was seen chasing one another off into the woods several times.
I am jealous of the people who get to live with Super Man and Underpants. I wish they were my dogs. Again, the Mr. would not let me keep them. Even just Underpants, who would've fit nicely in the back seat. Jerk.
I didn't get to take a pic of them because the next day they were no where to be found. Off to another adventure on the other side of the lake, I'm sure.
But let me tell you, if you ever need a dog fix, drive to Moon Lake and look them up.

p.s. I did not meet the above pictured dogs although from the background, I am pretty sure they live in Lewiston. I'm going to keep my eyes out. I am so bringing them home when I find them.