I AM GOING TO PUNCH MY DOG

Look how sweetly Copper is sharing his toy with Belle. He loves that puppy--and by love I mean he has been methodically removing appendages since we gave it to him last November. It's lasted so long, and its his favorite.

He looks like such a sweet dog.

BUT HE IS NOT.

My babysitter Amy called me today around 3:10 to ask if I would be home soon... Finley's been doing so well that I wasn't sure what the problem was.

You guessed it, the problem was my psychotic dog. Sol left Copper in the backyard, and when Amy came home from running errands with Finley, he escaped. Definitely NOT Amy's fault--she's 8 months pregnant and trying to get a baby and her belly in the backyard. And also, my dog is crazy.

So he escaped, much like the last time. This time, Victoria and I raced home from school and surveyed the neighborhood--we were pointed in the right direction by three different sets of neighbors. When we located him, he looked POSSESSED. I've said it once and I'll say it again, that dog had indescribable amounts of crazy in his eyes. Buckets.

He ran like his tail was on fire and dashed off whenever he saw me. By the time we chased him to the elementary school, we had (somehow) collected a following of elementary aged girls dressed as the safety patrol, trying to help. Copper was finally distracted by another big dog and after several attempts I was able to grab his collar while he met the new dog.

And the safety patrol applauded.

Seriously.

And I wanted to punch him in the face. He was so thrilled with himself the whole ride home, then pretty much cowered and tried to stay away from me at home because he knew he was going to get punched. He is temporarily, or maybe permanently, banished to the backyard. All he wants to do now is lay on the cool ground and relish in his memories of freedom.