Woof...

"Woof" is a bit of a weird subject heading for a blog post but to be frank, it's been kind of a weird week. CJ has been cycling through various phases so fast my head is spinning. Some phases are great and they make my melting heart burst with pride and other phases are beyond cringe worthy. Right now CJ has entered what I have lovingly coined as the "caged dog phase." Let me break down like this: Whether in person or in a movie, we've all seen a dog race. The greyhounds are lined up inside metal corrals, salivating, jumping, flopping to get their hands on the fake rabbit. The metal gates rise and the dogs burst off the starting line with wild fury. CJ is a lot like those dogs right now. Look away for one second and her metal gate is lifted. She sprints for the first visible exst sign and with the strength of 10 greyhounds throws up the heaviest of doors into the wide open freedom of a parking lot or street. The girl is greyhound fast and if you've seen me in public lately, we probably didn't get a chance to chat because I was frantically waving my arms and shouting, "CJ stop." 

A car has been following me for the past few days and printed on the car's door in big bold letters is DHS. While that isn't true, I do feel like dozens of head shaking parents have probably thought about calling me in. I guess if she is really going to act like a caged dog then maybe I should get her a leash. But I'm just kidding about that too, so really, please don't call DHS.

And you know, just when I think I'm going to surrender to my two year old cage dog and never again leave the house, I find her curled up, quietly reading a book with Dina. I think she knew it was time to turn on the charm.


Comments

Just so CJ doesn't start barking. but do greynhounds bark?

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