Friday, July 29, 2022

More Semper Gumby

You never know whose mugshot is going to appear on the interwebs.


John Blackshoe's comment on yesterday's post was perfect.

In case you missed the post, I was trying to write about what you do when your plans get turned upside down by reality. I didn't write it very well. Some days are like that.

Get back on the horse, right?


This morning my plan was to take out the trash, go check cows, do a little bit of fence work, watch the kids for an hour or so, and then do some afternoon stuff.

So I took out the trash. The most important thing in taking out the trash is to make sure that Tommy doesn't get out. He's rushed the gate a couple of times before. Both times he just flew off in whichever direction his nose was pointed an it was a real not-so-fun adventure getting him back.

Therefore, it's important to get his attention at the gate and tell him "Stay." He almost always minds that command nicely. Most often he steps back and sits down. So give the command, go through the gate and close it, say "good boy," then after tossing the trash in the dumpster, carefully re-enter and secure the gate behind you.

This morning I did all that except for the "good boy" and the careful re-entry. My brain was already planning through the next thing on the list and while I was wool-gathering Tommy bolted through the gate.


I grabbed the leash and followed him, thinking he'd get tired of playing "can't catch me I'm the gingerbread dog" eventually and let me take him home. Three miles later my last sight of him was disappearing over a hill in a pasture south of town.

Well, shit.

So I hiked on home, opened the back gate, and headed out to check cows. Along the way, texting while driving, I tried to post my plight up on the Kimball lost and found pets koobecaf page. Since I wasn't yet an approved member of the group (I am now) I had to wait to be approved. So I got on with checking cows. Which went fine.

Later at home, with only 20 minutes before I had to show up to watch the kids, I checked the koobecaf and immediately saw Tommy's mugshot. All my worry and dark fears instantly vanished. Man that felt good.

Along with the mugshot the lady who captured him posted: "This dog showed up outside of my grooming salon. Doesn't look very old and looks a little hungry. Please come get your dog"

Which I did.

As an aside, the grooming shop is on the opposite side of town from where Tommy disappeared. That boy can cover a lot of ground in a hurry.

I got him home and still had seconds to spare for my kids watching gig.

What a morning!


There was much fun had through the rest of the day, as well as a little bit of work. Tomorrow is the now six year old's birthday party, four days after his actual birthday in order that family might attend. And as it's 11:44 p.m. I'd best post this up before today becomes tomorrow.


Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.


  1. Bad dog!
    Happy Birthday to you know who! (And anyone else working on getting their superannuation ticket punched.)

    Good on ya fer staying up late to feed us freeloaders our daily ration. When I went to bed, I was sure you had gone sinker again, but happy day when I found a post this morning.
    John Blackshoe

    1. Bad dog indeed! Although it's probably more properly Bad Owner! He just does dog stuff in the absence of any useful guidance and direction.
      It was a lovely birthday bash today.
      I seem to have arrived at a place where I can attempt to write. I have to push myself, which is fine, but the results are a little (lot) rough. I intend to persevere and I suspect I'll eventually sand out the divots and resurface the thing into a better package. Thanks for the praise, it means a lot, and thanks for stopping by and commenting John.