Jezebel is an escape artist. A smooth talking, hard headed escape artist. I went out yesterday to buy her a little jail cell which she didn't seem to mind so much and today, she flew the coop. The devil. Part of me was secretly relieved for the sake of all my yarn and the other part of me was stunned.
The men folk couldn't call me (no cajones) so they put the eldest girl-child in the tough position. She called me from her work where I work to let me know the men had failed at the simple task of dog sitting. Someone had let her out and the little squirt with the legs of Secretariat hopped the fence.
Now here I am living in my fishbowl at work, unable to leave and sick with worry. I'm worried because she came from a little town with not much traffic to a big urban area and obviously she has no common sense. I thought for sure I'd hear she was whacked by a truck or car. It was not to be. I did the only sane thing I could think of and had the girl-child call the local police with a description of the runaway. Hound. Blue Collar. In heat. Jumps. Wags Tail. Begs. Mooches. Steals yarn.
The police called me at work an hour later to tell me that someone in the neighborhood crime watch had captured the little felon. They asked for a description which matched and said we'd have to pick her up or they'd take her to the doggie lock-up. I can just picture her on an MSNBC prison show. I told you she's a bad, bad dog. Part of me wanted to play tough love with her and let her ride it out in dog prison. I just couldn't do it so I had the man-child pick her up. He had some choice words to say about her but if he had said them to me, I would have had to wash his mouth out with soap.
I just hope she didn't get herself "into trouble" since it is her "time of the year". Hussy.
Today's music selection is for Jezebel. I'm gonna go have a beer.