They’ll make a mess.
They’ll figure out how to get out of the house.
They’ll figure out how to get out of the house through the windows. Once outside, they’ll have to scale down the paneling like spider-dogs.
They’ll chew on the wires and blow out the electricity.
They’ll chew on the wires, giving themselves the ability to shoot lightning out of their mouths. They won’t know how to control it, and they’ll bark out lightning bolts and start a fire.
They’ll turn on the television and watch a program with subliminal messaging that teaches them to rebel against their benevolent human overlords.
They’ll bark at the neighbor dogs.
They’ll invite the neighbor dogs over for a party and not clean up after.
They’ll have a falling out with the neighbor dogs at the party and it will be awkward when we see them on walks.
They’ll find where I hide the chicken jerky and ruin their dinner.
They’ll go through my library and tear up all the books they don’t like. I’ll feel judged by their choices.
They’ll pee indiscriminately on the furniture.
They’ll determine that all the furniture is now dog furniture, and I’ll have nowhere to sit when I get home.
They’ll get bored, take up doga, and become famous on Instagram.