Sit down over here and let me tell you what happened this morning. Do you have your coffee? Okay, good.
So I'm sitting here working away and the doorbell rings. It's FedEx delivering a package. It's Barnaby's latest poker chips (he collects them). So I fight off the dogs and finally get the door open and bring the box inside.
I'm back working away at my computer and the doorbell rings AGAIN. It's another delivery, but this time it's our new remote. We had to order one from DirecTV because Eli chewed up the other one. (Damn dogs!) I fight off the dogs again, finally get the door open and retrieve the box and bring it inside.
Again, I go back to my work. (It's amazing I get any work done at all, right?) And about 30 minutes later, something catches my eye outside the window and I look up. (I'm keeping a lookout for burglars since my neighbors got their house broken into, a la Gladys Kravitz.) (I just love these little parentheses, don't I?)
ANYWAY, I look out the window and see a boy across the street walking with his dog. I think to myself, "He's got a little Papillon! Cool!" And then I say out-loud, "Hey! That's MY Papillon!"
Unbeknownst to me, Eli had run out the door one of those times I opened it to retrieve a package. The little shit. Thank goodness he wasn't in Fort Worth by now. Evidently he had been gallivanting around the neighborhood having a grand old time, and when he got tired, he got confused and was scratching on my next-door neighbor's front door. The little neighbor boy (I can't believe I don't know his name) was trying to catch him, but Eli was having none of it.
So there you have it. That's my excitement for the day.
I just ate an entire bagel while writing this, and I don't even remember it! I hate that. I didn't even get to enjoy it, dammit.
Eli, aka "Little Shit"