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Hungary, My Foot
These particular Hungarian Vizslas wouldn't last a day in Hungary!
 I couldn't find Bacchus anywhere, until I walked into my bedroom and hear a telltale thumping noise which was the cutie wagging his tail.
I literally had to peel back the covers to find him - he was all the way underneath, at the foot of the bed - and I was greeted by a blast of hot air and a groan which obviously meant, "Cold! Cold! Cold! Cover me up!!"
It's 67 degrees in this house. I don't think Hungary hits 67 degrees till July.
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