An intrusion, or an escape?
With the car back from its little vacation east of here (overnight in Charlevoix), the Saturday shuffle began. Funny how our schedules are busier when we’re not at work. For a change, things were running on time, and after a warning that there was some delay at the transformation factory, I took a break at home.
Things were too quiet. The house had an empty air, due to an intrusion (or extrusion).
The watchdog was gone. I could imagine the police report: Yes, officer, a burglary. No officer, all that seems to be missing is a big dog. Better to conduct my own investigation and save face.
Four hours later, a call from a neighbour. The dog had been spotted, wandering aimlessly near a local soccer pitch. Escaped the clutches of the ‘nappers, obviously. At least, that’s his story.
Here’s the remedial plan. We’re going to invest in a name tag with a telephone identifier. Civic license tags aren’t sufficient to identify generic animals. One of our sons has offered to put bars on the window, but I’m not keen to transform the castle into a dungeon. And, just to be sure, I’m going to assign the would-be jailer to dogsitting duties, at the first opportunity.
This doesn’t have anything to do with dogs and windows, but I’m throwing it out there. When you send someone to a fast food restaurant with a wish list, print the menu choices from the local country. The poor sandwich artist at Subway was a little bewildered by my request, given that nothing on the list (except for the lettuce) matched her counter set.
