​So, the other day I was away from the house when Darrin called me with some info that filled me with schadenfreude (see, see? proof I’m not that good; I experienced a rush of joy when hearing of others’ misfortune). You know the people I occasionally write about who seem to sort of relish calling the police if there is a loose dog in the neighborhood (except for the loose stray last week that was sitting in front of their gate, but I don’t think they saw him). 

Anyway, Darrin called to tell me that their little fuzzy dog was running up and down the street with his human chasing him all the while yelling at him (fyi – exactly what not to do). Imagine my disappointment when Darrin wouldn’t embrace the wee little devil on my shoulder’s plan to call the police and/or go stand in front of the gate and scream as if the wee fuzzy-wumpkins was a hellhound there to steal souls. 


The really good stuff never happens when I’m there to truly enjoy it. 😉 

(note, I am not condoning loose dogs. Loose dogs are a hazard and a large amount of our time and money is spent actively repairing and reinforcing our fencing to keep our jerks contained. That said, things can and do happen. Please go to to learn more about what to do if you come into contact with a loose or stray dog to prevent being bitten.)