They can be knocked out asleep flat on the couch and I step into the office and it's like someone dropped firecrackers in the living room.
Everyone is at attention, the cats decide it's time for second supper (or fourthmeal...I believe they've seen too many Taco Bell ads) so start singing, and the dogs rush for the nearest, loudest, squeaka toys.
Occasionally I'll be graced with my boy Caleb's company under my chair. He'll contribute "the look" each time I have to SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH into the living room You know the kind, you run out of breath as you near the end, sounding like a quashed tire. "You can play but DON'T BARK!" At which time I get the cursory "whatever" look followed by a few minutes of tumbles and growls.
Ah a life with dogs.