Suburb shenanigans continue, my friends. Fast on the heels of our latest raccoon debacle, I have another tale of animal antics to share. Enjoy!
I was the last one up a few nights ago, which in and of itself was unusual. Doo was already in bed, and kids were in their rooms. After I turned off the lights, I went to call our black lab Libby in. She was in the yard playing with a neighbor dog, Declan, also a black lab. I chatted with his owner for a bit, and then after getting Libby inside, headed upstairs.
While I was brushing my teeth, my youngest stormed into the bathroom: “Mom, someone’s been knocking on the door for 10 minutes. Didn’t you hear it?”
No, I had not, and because Doo has hearing loss and was deep into an audio book with ear buds, he had not, either.
So, I threw on some pants and went back downstairs. Libby was jumping at the window, responding to Declan, who was peering in. My neighbor was on the front stoop.
“Hi. I’m sorry. Did you need something?” I asked.
“Yeah. You have our dog. This is Libby!”
Oops. I had accidently brought the wrong pet into the house, and the neighbor had realized just a hair too late. I do remember thinking to myself that it was weird that Declan also had a purple collar, but that was the extent of my observational awareness.
Doo and the kids say this epic fail is proof that I hate Libby, but I disagree. It was dark, they’re both black labs, and I’m not usually up that late.
Peace out.
