My kid walked into my room. “Do you hear wining?” I listened for a moment. “No.” She shrugged her shoulders and left. I walked out to the dining room a little while later and thought I heard wining. I poked my head into her room. “Do you hear wining now?” She shook her head no. I looked at the sliding glass door which was left slightly ajar so our small dog could go in and out. Then I thought Crap, what if she’s hurt. I step out just past the door and there my little dog is on the outside of the gate (where she shouldn’t be) and wining her butt off. “LET ME IN! I DON’T BELONG ON THIS SIDE. OUT (she looks around frantically while hopping up and down) HERE!” I laugh. There is a space at the other metal gate where the hinge has broken and she can squeeze through but this dog belongs to us so completely she never tries to squeeze out unless she can’t get back into the house (I’m guessing my kid didn’t leave the door cracked open far enough).
I tell my hubby later that night and we laugh. Any other dog would be, “See you in a few hours!” We’ve seen plenty of dogs trotting down the street looking for a good time. The tags on their collar clinking merrily. Not ours. She wouldn’t think of going out into that big, bad world. She’s snuggled up by my side as I type this. Not this dog.