The Adventures of Bob the Dog – Impounded!

Time to take a breather, so I'm taking a blogger break for a while. I notice that other bloggers, columnists, and cartoonists pull up things from their archives, so that's what I'm going to do.

I’ll be honest and say that after some time had passed and it got strangely quiet next door – no more howling at the moon – I really, deep-down, was hoping that Bob had run off to seek his fortune elsewhere. I felt a little guilty about it, but this was not my dog, people! I should have known that I wouldn’t be that lucky and sure enough, just when I was feeling a little smug, I got a call from the Brown County dog pound. They said they had my dog; did I want to pay the fees and come get him or what?

“What do you mean you have my dog? I don’t have a dog!”
“Well, I’ve got a good-looking Blue Heeler here wearing a tag with your name and phone number on it. Is your dog named ‘Bob’?” the voice said.
“Let me talk to the dog.”
“Excuse me?” the voice said.
“Never mind. How much is the fine?
“Two hundred dollars or three 50-lb bags of Bugle Boy dog food with real beef morsels and enroll the dog in rehab. Your choice.” said the voice.
“I gotta go buy some Bugle boy. I’ll be there in the morning.”
“Be sure it's with ‘real beef morsels.’ That’s the only kind we accept.”

Turns out that they caught Bob trying to break into Underwood’s Cafeteria in Brownwood in the middle of the night. On the way home he said that he had paid good money for what he thought was the alarm code and that he should have known better than to trust a Pomeranian.

I asked him how he got to Brownwood and he said I really didn’t want to know.

I asked him how it was that he had a dog tag with my name and phone number on it and he said he ordered it over the Internet right after it became obvious that Cole was not coming back.

I started to ask him how he paid for the alarm code and ID tag, but I thought better of it. Bob is right. Some things you just don’t want to know.

“You know you’re going to have to do a rehab program, don’t you? I have to send a certificate of completion to the pound.” Bob allowed as how he could do that and he had heard that Bad Dogs Anonymous probably had the best recovery rate, so would I mind getting him in there?

So Bob the Dog is now enrolled in Bad Dogs Anonymous. I drop him off every morning and pick him up every evening. It does not bother me that when I pick him up, all the staff and administration hide behind closed doors until we leave. Much.

I’m really, really hoping that this is going to be the end of it.

I’m such a fool.

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