The other day, I found another one of Belle's bolt-holes under the fence and blocked it. I'd been congratulating myself ever since, and she hadn't gotten out in three days so I must have solved the problem, right?
Today, because I had something to do that took the whole day, I rewarded myself by stopping at a great NY-style pizza place and getting a pizza for dinner. This is a rare treat for me, indeed. And to ensure that I could eat my pizza in peace, I put the dogs out in their run before sitting down to enjoy it.
Two slices into heaven though, I heard my crazy cat neighbor lady calling me outside. I went to the door and she told me that my dog--"the one that isn't Murphy"--was loose and running around, obviously via yet another new hole. Well I stepped out and called Belle and she came running right to me and went back in the house while I checked with the crazy cat neighbor to see if anything bad had happened. Fortunately the CCN also reported that Belle didn't seem interested in her cats at all, but she did say that when she tried to corral Belle for me, Belle growled at her and bared her teeth. (My gentle, sweet Belle? Acting like a watchdog? Good girl!!)
So I apologized for that, and the CCN actually had no problem with it since Belle was just defending herself and her turf, and then I excused myself to go back inside to finish my...Oh, HELL NO! Belle was already hard at work on her second slice of my pizza when I got in there.
Medical bills I can handle.
Dogs on my furniture I can deal with provided that it stops soon.
The holes under the fence...we'll work through this too.
But I swear by all that's holy in eleven religions that if she ever nabs my pizza again, it's back to the pound for a refund!
Hamsters, shoulda got two.