Notice a pattern here? See February 28 post. Actually, a better title would be Runaway Bay.
5:30 PM- As usual we're scurrying around to get everyone out the door for Alex's baseball game (which includes prepping tacos--yes, tacos again-- so dinner's almost ready when we get home, Linc & Dani getting scooters and helmets ready to load up-you expect them to watch the game?!, double knotting Alex's cleats, etc.) when I realize Bay's not underfoot begging for tacos. Which means she's either locked inside somewhere or is on an adventure. Without her collar.
5:40- Scott hops in the car, does a quick spin through the neighborhood, but no luck. All kids pile into the car for the game (and he heads to the wrong field--oops, did it slip my mind that this game is across town?!). I hoof it up and down our street, hollering, checking open garages, then get in the car and drive.
6:45- After accosting everyone out for an evening stroll, I ask some kids playing in their driveway if they've seen a dog, "Oh ya, she's in our backyard!" Thank you God, once again, for watching over my family! The kids said checked if she had rabies by poking her with a stick, but when she was friendly, they fed her. Bay's mission was accomplished.
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