mending fences

today’s word … content

today, my spoiled rotten mutts escaped the fence… again. At this point, my neighbors are used to seeing the streak of white and streak of black bolting through their yards. every time this happens, I timidly run through neighbors back yards hoping for a glimpse of the “neighborhood strays.”

it’s funny to me that they must sleep on beds or chairs (never the floor), yet when they get free from their back yard confinement, they simply want to waller in mud (or other dark, smelly things) and feel complete freedom from the comforts of home. why do they want so badly to escape the things they love?

when every avenue has been scavenged, they almost return home. not actually to the door, but out in the woods behind our home. they sit and watch. and whimper. they want to come back to their full bowls and soft couch, but fear the punishment of the so, so powerful squirt bottle. and the stern looks. and the baths.

when a barrier stands in our way, why do we want so badly to escape? then, want so badly to return to the way things were?