She got out again! Apparently dug a hole in the fence. But we don't know where she is this time. The roomy is out combing the streets for her right now.
I'm of mixed feelings about this. I am worried about her. I really don't want anything bad to happen to her. But I'm getting sick and tired of losing and hunting down this dog.
I would go out looking for her myself, but (A) I'm all alone, with no help. And (B) without help there's no way I can get her. The last five times she's picked up on the fact that when hubby and I get her she goes home. So she runs away from us. The only way we've been able to get her is to have a complete stranger call to her and give her to us. It's so frickin aggravating.
So I sit here. Waiting for the inevitable phone call. She has a collar on and tag. I just hope it isn't the "You're dog has been hit by a car" phone call as opposed to "Come pick your conniving escape artist of a dog" phone call.
(By the way, called hubby and let him know. He responded appropriately with most sincerity even though I know he's been tempted just to open wide the gate for her because he's sick and tired of having to track her down.)
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