Looking for adventure

So after like a month of hanging out on the deck, I figured out how to get out. All you had to do was stand on the bench, then jump at an angle over the railing and onto the stairs. I showed Nikki how to do it, but she just looked at me like I was crazy. What a stick in the mud. I gotta talk to those two-legs about leaving some water outside the pen. I was really thirsty by the time Jeff got home. He didn't say anything, but then he spent the next weekend making the fence taller. Sheesh.

About a month later, I decided to try again in pretty much the same spot as before. Except this time it was going to be pretty hard to make the stairs, so I landed in the flower bed. It was about 2 meters down. Umph. Harder than I thought. Nobody waters that bed and it was hard as a rock. Clay to be precise. I didn't feel so good after that. I was pretty sore that night. I was still pretty subdued the next night, so we took a trip to the emergency vet. That lady vet got awfully personal, and I hardly knew her. I mean, I felt bad, what's she doing poking and prodding? In the end she said to keep me quiet for a couple of days. What did she think I was doing? After a couple days I did feel better, but by then it was rainy so there was nothing to do but sleep anyhow. Except for the big hole I dug in the pen. Well, I had to, didn't I? It was raining so the dirt was softer.

I don't think I want to go outside the pen again. Nikki finally figured out how to get out, but she did it the hard way -- chewed through the gate. I told her not to go out there, but did she listen to me? No. She's such a dope.

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Anne Powell 11/22/00