We had an adventurous Sunday. Ginger got out of the outdoor play pen. Twice. Last night, in the dark. She saw the situation differently than the rest of us …
LURA: Found her!
TIM: Where are you?
LURA: Way in the back in–ouch!– the brush!
GINGER: Come on back, it smells like rabbit butt in here!!!
LURA: Ok, Ginger, fun’s over, it’s time to–OUCH!, stupid blackberries–go home.
CHARLIE (looking worried): You scared us, Ginger, and you didn’t even make the hole in the fence big enough for me to get through.
GINGER: Ok, but wait, smell this over here!
LURA: No, we are going inside, it’s dark and this is the second time I’ve had to crawl into a brier patch after you today.
TIM: Good tracking, Mom.
LURA: Yeah, that will be helpful if I ever decide to take up treeing coons.
TIM: How did she get out this time? I drove another post at the gate so we didn’t have a repeat of this morning.
LURA: Peeled up the fence in the back. New rule: Ginger Houdini is not allowed to be loose in the play pen.
GINGER: Houdini! That’s a very respectable nickname! Charlie! I’m a Houdini! Wait! Smell over here! Squirrel!
CHARLIE (prancing nicely on his leash): Yeah, and you know what else? Tonight, I’M the Good Dog! Ha, ha, ha!