Friday, April 6, 2012
“Nooo! Don’t hit me! Pleeease! HELP! HELP!”
These were the sounds coming out of my house last night. The door was wide open, the night air carrying the noise across backyards and driveways and into people’s homes.
We have to feign domestic abuse in order to get Kiah into the house at the end of the night.
I’m serious. It’s the only thing that works. We make a ruckus and Kiah bounds inside, eyes burning coldly, her black fur shining like justice. We have a canine Batman. She stares John down like nobody’s business. One of us rushes and closes the sliding glass door so she doesn’t escape again.
Somehow, we failed miserably when it came to dog-obedience training.
On the other hand, it’s nice to have canine Batman on my side. (I’m thinking of getting her a cape.)