My doofy dog

A few days ago I was working in the kitchen when I heard a weird noise in the bedroom. I went to check it out and found Phoenix with his hind feet on the bed and his front feet on the nearby window sill, wiggling, wagging, squeaking and staring with rapt attention at something outside the window. This is not unusual behavior. While I frequently think he sees things that are not there, who am I to say what he is looking at?

The window was open (it was a very warm day). The screen had been neatly sliced from top to bottom and was flapping in the breeze.


My theory (with no proof to back it up and Phoenix isn’t telling) is that my darling, sweet, clever baby dog was squirrel hunting from inside the house, got carried away, smacked the screen with a paw in his excitement, snagged a nail in the screen and ended up splitting the darn thing right down the center.

No big deal. The screen needed repaired anyway, from where the Farmer stuck the end of a ladder through it earlier this summer while working behind the house.

Silly boys.

And for all his excitement over the squirrels, it never occurred to Phoenix that he could have jumped out the window. It’s a ground floor bedroom so only a two foot drop to the ground. He could have been off on a lark to have his way with the squirrels or whatever other invisible creature he was hunting.

Some days I am really happy to have him think outside the box. Other days, I’m really glad he doesn’t.