Chain of Events (Part I)

Ashley Cooper hasn’t tried to run away recently.  Obviously, she doesn’t read the papers.  I suspect she has little awareness or concern for economic conditions.  I thought of running away myself, but Brenda says I’d have to take her and the kids with me.  That means the zoo would come too, so I might as well stay here and make the best of it.

Without attempting to leave the yard, Ashley did manage to get her chain disconnected from its mooring post and ramble all over the yard with chain-in-tow like a tractor or something.  She must have searched diligently for our three remaining blades of grass, and with the chain, ripped them out of the ground by the roots.

No attempt was made to jump the fence, so she missed out on the perfect opportunity to hang herself.  Not that a hanging would do her much good due to her thick neck: she’d probably just dangle there in the air all day long wigglin’ and wagglin’ and gagglin’ enough to embarrass us in front of God and everybody else in the neighborhood.  If by chance such an escapade would kill her, I doubt the ASPCA would consider it suicide.

That dawg isn’t satisfied to just fool around with her own restraints; she messes with the other dawg’s detention mechanisms as well.  The other day, she managed to remove Cosmo Topper’s collar.  It is probably out there (buried?) in the yard somewhere.  We know she didn’t eat it: it ‘s made of steel chain.  If that was a menu item, the fence would’ve long been gone by now.

I made a feeble attempt to solicit the aid of my three brilliant offspring in finding the dawg collar.  The idea of raking leaves just enough to see if the collar was under them was a bit much.  After all, the boys seem to think those leaves are just fine right where they’ve been since autumn.

The prospects of yard work did affect scholarship, however, as all three of my sons thought of some studies that needed their immediate attention.  I’m sure it was a Divine inspiration that caused books to be opened that had only heretofore been just carried around as ballast.

At this writing, Topper remains naked, as his only garment (his collar) hasn’t shown up anywhere.  It will in time: I’m sure to find it with the lawnmower now that the sons are onto more academic pursuits having lost all interest in yard work.   Brenda is concerned that we find the collar because it has Topper’s license attached to it.  ‘Til we do, I guess he just won’t be allowed to drive the car.

(End of Part I)


One response to this post.

  1. Posted by BB on March 28, 2010 at 10:57 pm

    I LOVE these stories! Makes me remember some good times with the “old” dogs, and fond remembrances of Leroy (referring to Part II).


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