Poe and I may need counseling. I’ll have to check with Susan Isaacs to see how this therapy stuff works out. But we are having some serious issues. If there was a home to send errant dogs to, the way you can with teens, I’d have his bags packed tonight. Instead, he’s going to spend four days in the kennel while I head off to Fort Benning later this week.
Without my phone.
Tim took me on a date tonight. We went to see The Proposal with Sandra Bullock. It’s a great flick. I loved it. Loved it. The dance scene alone is worth the price of the ticket.
But not the price of a replacement phone.
I didn’t take my phone with me. No need for it in a movie theatre, right?
I left it at home.
On the table. Or in my purse. Or on the counter somewhere. I can’t recall. I had spoken to Shelby. Then Konnie and that’s the last call that phone will ever get because Poe ate the phone.
Chewed it up.
There is nothing this dog won’t put in his slimy mouth. Not a thing.
I love Poe. Love him like a son. Just like a son, come to think of it.
But I be dadgum if I can afford him. He’s eating me out of house and phone.
There are some things a writer just can’t live without. The Love of God, family and the reliability of a computer and cell phone. I mean how will I find my way around Fort Benning without a cell phone in my pocket.
I don’t even know my own kids’ phone numbers. They are all plugged into my phone.
The one Poe ate.
He knew he did a bad thing, too. He knew it. Tim had been calling my phone, trying to help me find it when Poe started for the back yard, but remembering that’s where he had trashed my phone, he turned and ran back to the living room. Acting all the while like “Gosh, who did that? Wasn’t me. Must’ve been that Jack Russell that was hanging in the hood earlier.”
“BAD DOG!” Tim yelled. Then, “I think we solved your phone problem. BAD DOG!”
Pray for Poe. He is in serious need of repentance and forgiveness.
Four days in the kennel will do him some good. Give him time to think about his errant ways.