The Big O

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As expected, letting Oliver out in the early morning hours has fallen squarely on my shoulders.

Despite the fact that there are two stories in between us when I get up to shower in the morning Oliver starts to bark.

15 minutes later we are sharing quality time in the back yard as Miller and Paris cower.

The puppy wants to play…

…always!

Miller and the Pair wake up a tad slower than that.

This morning, my neighbor, who has a young dog of her own spotted Oliver as he moved around looking for a place to do his morning duties.

“Ahh, he’s so cute!” My neighbor called out, and that was enough for The Big O.

He stopped what he was doing and darted under the fence and raced across the street.

If he could’ve leapt into my neighbor’s arms he would have.

He didn’t have to. She immediately scooped Oliver up and he kissed her as though he were at the prom.

“Oh, he’s so darling.”

I laughed.

“Yeah. I know better,” my neighbor said. “Has he chewed up a lot of stuff?”

“I’m missing a shoe,” I said. “He has a lot of energy.”

It took me a little bit to get Oliver back home, and then I had to chase him a while to get him back into the house.

Chasing a dog around the backyard before the sun comes up isn’t my idea of fun, but as I lift him, he settles in.

Nuzzles up close for a minute.

“Ollie! You’re a good boy!”

I give him a treat and placed him into his playpen where he has about 40 toys.

As I turned away, I spotted something familiar under his dog bed.

My freaking shoe!

I turned for the door and smacked straight into Paris who was waiting.

To go for a ride.

“Bah!”

I gave Paris a spin around the block and then mercifully headed off to work.

The sun was rising.

How the hell did I get into this predicament?

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