Wes blew up a bunch of balloons for my birthday last week. Lucy is petrified of them (along with other assorted things), so they all ended up in the bedroom. This turned out to be a boon for us as it kept her from sneaking into the room and onto the bed late at night after we'd fallen asleep (we'd both gotten lax about the "no dog on the bed" rule with Wes being on call and me being out of town). Last night, Wes and I both woke up having been startled by a loud "pop" sound. I don't remember much of the conversation we had, given that it was the middle of the night, but I do remember saying something about the sound having been a gunshot. This morning, more lucid, I found the culprit. Gunshot indeed. I can only imagine what the headline would have read... 
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