I have two. One big, one little. When you own a whybananna you have to lock your garbage, hide the mail and keep the bathroom door shut at all times unless you want an endless trail of toilet paper coming off of the roll and wrapped around every piece of furniture in the house. I am still amazed how they pull it off the roll without ripping it.

What is a Whybananna you ask? Well it is a dog. To be exact, it is a Weimaraner. The name ‘whybananna’ evolved over a long distance phone call with a slightly inebriated English man and a very bad New York accent.

Sophia Rufus, my almost 4 year old, is, I am convinced, part human. There are days when she primps and preps to go out in front of the mirror longer than I do! And sometimes it actually shows.

Georgia Pink, the newest addition, is 8 months old and so very different from the regal Sophia. George, as we lovingly call her, is a tomboy.

They get along like siblings, ripping each other apart when time calls for it but fiercely protective should the neighbor’s cat come calling. An occasional growl, a nip in the rear to show who is boss, no I am not the one doing the nipping, is all part of the day.

Together they are trouble. They have successfully shredded the covers off of 6 different dog beds, 2 pillows and one plush Snoopy doll, may it rest in peace.

But they are a joy and lately they are the only ones who will sit still for me when I want to take a few test shots since everyone else in the house is pretty much pictured out.

Sophia reminds me of royalty. She sits perfectly, feet together, back straight, head held high in the air. She sits and waits. Waits for a very long time if necessary except if someone rings the bell, then all bets are off.

George on the other hand is lanky and unpolished. When George sits it normally involves a bit of a sit, then the feet slide out in front of her and before you know it she is crawling on her belly to get just that much closer. George is a sneak. As much of a sneak as George is, Sophia is no angel. But I love them just as they are.

The other day my joys stole my new Motorola Walk about, complete with the headset. I found the walk about lying on the floor, unscathed and couldn’t image how it had gotten there until I found the headset or should I say remains of the headset.

It took me well over an hour to figure out what it had been. I knew it was them though, every time I walked past either of them one of their heads would lower, their eyes would turn upward and I swear if they could whistle they would have been doing that too.

Here in my hand was a short wire with a tiny portion of a connector left. I checked every TV cable, computer cord, rechargers (and there are many of them), mobile phone and telephone cord before realizing what it was that I was holding.

George was the first to congratulate me. She came over, tail wagging, as I picked up the walkabout.

After a stern lecture and a look from George as if to say, “hey, it wasn’t my idea!” as Sophia confirmed this by hiding behind the chair, I realized I have way too many wires in my life and that the girls were just attempting to point this out to me.

Thanks ladies, but if either of you touch my MP3 player you’re an orphan!