that Comet don’t hunt

I play by the rules, requesting the time off from work to take care of some legal matters for the family. It is amusing though at my age to consider playing “hooky”. In the cool of the morning, walking around the yard barefoot and enjoying the Spring bloom, I watered plants. Dexter was with me. I presumed Comet, as is his habit, went back inside through open front door.

He did not.

A young man taking a walk along the street chatted with me briefly. “Do you have a black dog?” Why yes, I confirmed. “He’s down on the corner”. I am glad he was an affable fellow. Both dogs responded quickly to my command to “heel”. I hear my late mother’s voice, “You were being a boldie! Bad dog!” (I cannot do her Irish accent real justice, even in my head).

Everyone who has an adult child “boomerang” back to ‘home’ deal with a testing of boundaries. It was a subject that church friends, my wife, and I wrestled with earlier in the week. We have to set and hold to our boundaries so our children, though adults, will perhaps learn to model our example.

Comet’s excuse was he could take himself for a walk while I was preoccupied. (Now I do sound like my mother. She always believed the dogs conversed with her). He does not need supervision all the time. He was playing “hooky” like his master.


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