Our Biscuit is a dork, but he thinks he’s a tough guy


Biscuit was loose outside all night. You know how I was talking about that half crazed barking thing the dogs do when they’re after something? Last night I heard it soon after Riona had gone to sleep and we were curled up peacefully in bed.
I was reading A Village Affair by Joanna Trollope, a lovely little book set in England that has helped me escape some of the stresses of life lately. My Anglophile friend Angela turned me onto her.
Anyway, we’re all snuggled up under the covers. Mark and I are reading our books contentedly when suddenly there it is, that psychotic barking. I went outside with my flashlight and got Ruby in, the troublemaker, but Biscuit had already jumped the fence and careened off into the woods. So I left him. There was no way I was running around in those woods at night and Wildwood Papa, who has been known to do so in the past is in no shape for such antics with his healing knee. When he went out to get him this morning Biscuit was curled up on the deck stairs against the gate and he hasn’t gone out since then. He is such a dork.

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