Thursday, April 12, 2007

This dog belongs on a farm.

Dodger was not meant for town life. In a town, running away through other people's yards, streets, drives and parks ALL NIGHT is not considered acceptable behaviour. Well, some of the university students try, but they usually wear out by dawn.

Dodge may have been worn out. We were still hearing him make the occasional pass around the house at midnight. At 7 a.m. the phone rang, announcing that His Canine Majesty was resting on the deck of a neighbour.

Now he's grumpy, grouchy, stiff and slow. Looking at me like it's *MY* fault that he ran his middle aged self ragged all night. Doesn't help his mood that a snotty kitten keeps trying to snuggle him.

How did he get out? Following one of the kidlets, who was attempting to catch said snotty kitten, through the poorly latched screen door. The screen door has been adjusted, again, and a baby gate added to the obstacle course of an entryway. It *might* slow him down.

Dodger's grand escapade coincided with Threepio's stay at the vet for a badly injured paw. Yes, the cat with only three paws to begin with managed to snare a rear leg in wire in the scant hour I was away from home yesterday. Several hundred dollars and a scarred vet later, he sports a snazzy blue cast and an impatient What-Do-You-Mean-I-Can't-Go-Out-For-Three-Days???? expression on his furry, fat snout.

No sleep and a sizable vet bill. Good thing I love the furry bastards.

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