The Runaway


Our lab bolted under the garage door as it opened. In seconds he was heading his usual direction of west, up the street.

“Shit,” I complain, “Forgot to put the dog-door down.”

He and I have had this interaction before. He escapes, I chase and each time I chastise him, explaining why he should not run away or cross the busy street and every time he fails to listen.

So once again, I find myself walking in the direction he ran, calling, “Here Yaeger!”

Damned dog! One day I’m simply gonna pack his bags and set them at the curb.

3 thoughts on “The Runaway”

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