Saturday, January 8, 2011

A Taste Of Freedom

A taste of freedom tends to make me go crazy.

Let me explain. I have a collar that beeps at me if I get too close to the 'invisible' fence. I know that, and even if I am not wearing my collar, I stay in our yard. But yesterday, well, I was in the mood to explore.

Mom did not know I was gone until the other girls started to bark frantically. When she peeked out the window, she thought she saw an old lady across the street petting a cat. A cat with tri-colors like a Beagle.

I assure you, Mother, I Am Not A Cat.

I knew the jig was up when Mom opened the front door and called my name. I leaped off the neighbors retaining wall, ran across the street (without looking both ways for traffic) and burst into our house with barely contained frenzy. While Mom was chastising me, I raced around the downstairs rooms, jumping on furniture, then leaping off, running so fast I was sliding as I tried to turn.....

I went a little crazy.

When I finally calmed down I knew two things. One, freedom is intoxicating. And two, Mom needs her eyes checked.

A cat. As if!

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