You would have thought that the house was on fire by the way I was grabbed my shoes and pulled on my jeans. I had the fright of my life yesterday morning. I let both pooches out in our enclosed front yard to do their morning biz. I heard them barking at someone walking by with her dog, and then I only heard Sophie barking...so I went out to check on them. I saw Sophie, but Ivan was GONE. I was still in my robe mind you, and I ran inside , pulled on a pair of jeans and threw on a sweatshirt before darting out the door. I ran down the street (and I have not ran in YEARS), yelling at the top of my lungs, IVAN!!! There were 3 kids across the street staring at me like I was some kind of nut. Now that I think back, I probably looked like one. So...after a few minutes of running, screaming and no sign of Ivan, the tears started flowing and I ran back home to get my car. Well well well..guess who was waiting for me in the driveway? I grabbed him and held him so tight I think he almost lost consciousness... I still could not figure out how in the world he got out, so I called my husband who suggested I let him out in the yard and just watch and see if he tries to escape again. Sure enough..the little booger went to a spot where he managed to squeeze under the picket fence gate. I know it's a bit late for a name change, but Jenna said we should call him Houdini. Here's the little escapee after I brought him in..he was pooped!
Now how can I stay mad at that face?
9 hours ago