Ruff! Beckett here. It's been a few exciting weeks. The baby human is much more interactive these days. This is good because she shows excellent taste—she smiles and coos whenever I walk in the room. This is bad because she shows excellent taste—she's always trying to tug on my ears and fur.
To get some more attention, I've started a new Friday tradition of escaping. For the past three weeks, I've managed to get out of the backyard every Friday afternoon. Every time the parents think they've figured out how I got out, I find another way!
But just once a week wasn't enough anymore; I've gotten hungry for more freedom. The best was Wednesday morning. I escaped at 6:45 am, before it was even light out! It was pouring rain, everything was wet and muddy, and I squeezed through the closed gate in 2 minutes flat. Dad drove around the neighborhood (making him late for work), while Mom called from the back porch and walked a few houses down, but couldn't go too far because of the baby human.
I finally took pity on them and showed up at the back fence, barking and excited to be out on such a gorgeous day. I was covered in mud from head to tail and in the best mood. And yet, they weren't pleased. Mom made me take a shower and neither one of them would talk to me for the rest of the day. I don't think it helped my case that, while driving around looking for me, the car picked up a nail and when Dad went back out to the garage 15 minutes later, he could hear the air hissing out of the tire.
And yet, I can feel the itch to escape building. They think they have everything figured out, because they have me hooked up to a leash every time I go out. But it's only a matter of time before I escape that, too. Just this afternoon I snuck out through the gate but didn't get very far because I was still leashed to the porch. I'll figure it out, though. Tomorrow is Friday, after all ....