I know many of you readers have expressed interest in or concern for me during this chaotic holiday visit on Cape Cod. You have rightfully recognized that the addition of two more dogs, one of which is a mere infant, into the already fragile balance may have proved too great a challenge for such a benign governor as yours truly. I appreciate the concern but rest assured that all is well, except for the minor flourishes of domination over the uninitiated newcomers. It is never too early for training acolytes to respect the intellectual and physical prowess of their superior.
Having said that, it may surprise you to learn that yesterday was the first day we four canines were left alone in the house for the entire afternoon. Four of the five adults wanted to see a matinee and the other adult was leaving to join friends, which left us at home without human supervision. Lizzie and I were quite comfortable since we are left to our own devices every day of our lives. Cecily, however, is a novice at this since she has rarely been left alone since her arrival. The baby, Daphne, was tucked snugly into her crate for a long afternoon nap. All was well, it would seem. But because Cecily has assumed the maternal role with this active toddler, she expressed great concern for her charge, arguing that it didn’t seem quite fair that the three of us were free-ranging pugs while Daphne, an innocent baby Frenchie, was incarcerated for the afternoon. She explained we were pack animals and as such should function as a pack. I felt no such response though and figured Daphne’s “lock up” would give us some much-needed peace and quiet. Lizzie being the weak willed, simple minded femaie that she is, of course sided with her “sister in crime” and prevailed upon me to help in the springing of the baby. What followed is nothing short of a miracle.
Grandma arrived home at about 4:30, the others having remained at the mall for book shopping. When she came to the back door, four wildly enthusiastic wagging and barking dogs greeted her. Grandma turned a ghastly shade of pale and entered with eyes wildly darting about, searching for evidence of blood, destruction, and excrement. She kept a running monologue going about how she knew she would find proof of our wanton orgy and unchecked pillaging. She kept asking how this had happened. She seemed genuinely shocked and amazed to find nothing amiss and all of us intact.
I cannot ever reveal how Daphne’s escape was arranged so I choose to call this our own little Christmas miracle.