Even if they don’t always choose the best times to visit, it’s always pleasant when a dog does so.
One woman recently received a surprise when her doorbell rang at four in the morning and she saw a very special visitor.
An American bully named Bruce rang her doorbell late one night, and the doorbell camera caught it all in a now-viral video posted on TikTok by user @omg_its_char. The homeowner’s neighbor’s dog is named Bruce.
The pet seems to be eager to be let inside and has demonstrated outstanding usage of the doorbell by even bopping his head at the chime. Bruce barks a second later, seemingly to announce, “Hey, I’m out here!”
Check out the video below:
The homeowner welcomed Bruce in for a visit, and although not everyone enjoys hearing the doorbell ring at this early hour, the dog settled in.
She posted an update saying, “This wasn’t the first time he stopped by to say hello. I got out of bed and let him inside.” “He used one of my cat’s toys to help himself while he had the zoomies for almost ten minutes before deciding to settle down on my couch.”
Bruce was allowed to spend the night with her after she called the dog’s owners and they didn’t respond. The following morning, the dog was picked up by the neighbors.
With over 24.6 million views in just two days, the video has gone viral. Many others said that if Bruce rang their bell, they would allow him in as well.
One response says, “That would be the only welcomed guest in my house.”
Another remark reads, “Oh my gosh, if you don’t let him in right now, I’m coming over immediately and keeping him.”
Another person wrote, “He wanted to have a sleep over.”
What a funny video and what a smart dog! Would you please let this cute puppy come visit you inside? If so, please tell your friends about this story.
My Neighbor Kept Hanging out Her Panties Right in Front of My Son’s Window, So I Taught Her a Real Lesson
My neighbor’s undergarments became the unlikely stars of a suburban show, taking center stage right outside my 8-year-old son’s window. When Jake innocently asked if her thongs were some kind of slingshots, I knew the “panty parade” had to stop, and it was time for a lesson in laundry discretion.
Ah, suburbia—where the lawns are pristine, the air smells of fresh-cut grass, and life rolls along smoothly until someone comes along to shake things up. That’s when Lisa, our new neighbor, arrived. Life had been relatively peaceful until laundry day revealed something I wasn’t prepared for: a rainbow of her underwear flapping outside Jake’s window like flags at a questionable parade.One afternoon, I was folding Jake’s superhero underwear when I glanced out the window and almost choked on my coffee. There they were: hot pink, lacy, and very much on display. My son, ever curious, peered over my shoulder and asked the dreaded question, “Mom, why does Mrs. Lisa have her underwear outside? And why do some of them have strings? Are they for her pet hamster?”
Between stifled laughter and mortified disbelief, I did my best to explain. But Jake’s imagination was running wild, wondering if Mrs. Lisa was secretly a superhero,with underwear designed for aerodynamics. He even wanted to join in, suggesting his Captain America boxers could hang next to her “crime-fighting gear.” It became a daily routine—Lisa’s laundry would wave in the breeze, and Jake’s curiosity would stir. But when he asked if he could hang his own underwear next to hers, I knew it was time to put an end to this spectacle. So, I marched over to her house, ready to resolve the situation diplomatically. Lisa answered the door, and before I could say much, she made it clear she wasn’t about to change her laundry habits for anyone. She laughed off my concerns, suggesting I “loosen up” and even offered me advice on spicing up my own wardrobe. Frustrated but determined, I came up with a plan—a brilliantly petty one. That evening, I created the world’s largest, most garish pair of granny panties out of the brightest fabric I could find. The next day, when Lisa left, I hung my masterpiece right in front of her window. When she returned, the sight of the massive flamingo-patterned undergarments nearly knocked her off her feet. Watching her fume while trying to yank down my prank was worth every stitch. She eventually caved, agreeing to move her laundry somewhere less visible—while I quietly relished my victory. From then on, Lisa’s laundry vanished from our shared view, and peace was restored. As for me? I ended up with a pair of flamingo-themed curtains, a daily reminder of the day I won the great laundry war of suburbia.
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