Shadow and Rio and Bjorn and the great escape

It has been a while since we visited my neighbor Bjorn (Not His Real Name) and there is really no excuse for it. Well, there is sort of an excuse for it. He has failed to do anything interesting for several weeks now. Until this week. 

Things always seem to happen when Bjorn’s wife Maggie (Not Her Real Name Either) leaves town. Especially when she has to leave her little dog Shadow behind, because Bjorn is Not Exactly a Dog Person. Maggie leaves with great trepidation, and always issues the same orders: Take care of the dog. Everything else comes second. Make sure that Shadow has all of his medicine, and don’t let him get loose. That’s all I ask.

As soon as I heard that Maggie was leaving Shadow in Bjorn’s care, I alerted Auntie Margarita and Uncle FlaVio (Right, Not Their Real Names) to be on the lookout for a Shadow escape. It took a few days, but sure enough, there we were, sitting in the kitchen watching the soup simmer, when FlaVio noticed something streaking beside the fence out back. Rio the Mexican Dog was in my yard (doggie cocktail hour) and he and Shadow were running back and forth on opposite sides of the fence at top speed. 

We three, being the good and kind neighbors that we are, looked at each other, and then at the simmering soup, and then back at the dogs, and said, “Hey, not our problem,” and waited for Bjorn to appear. Minutes later, there he was, leash in hand, yelling mightily for Shadow to come home. But of course, Shadow had other plans. When he saw that the jig was about to be up, he headed down the street looking for more adventure. Poor Bjorn trudged through the back gate, shoulders slumped, a nearly defeated man. To add to his woes, Maggie was due home that very evening, and would not be pleased at this turn of events.

“I have been so good to that dog. I put the medicine in his ears and his eyes. I brushed him and fed him. We watched football together, and I even took him out for chili fries. Four days, everything has been just great. And now this.” 

“Yes, Bjorn,” I said. “We do and do and do for these critters, and this is the thanks we get.”

As Bjorn set off wearily down the street, Shadow reappeared at the fence, looking for another piece of Rio. We trapped Shadow in the side yard and yelled for Bjorn. Shadow was muddy all the way up to his shoulders and his cottony white fur was covered in burrs and foxtails. But oh, what a happy dog he was! Adventure Dog for a day.

I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Bjorn as he walked back home dragging Shadow behind, knowing that he would be brushing him for hours and hoping Maggie wouldn’t arrive too soon. So I let him know that he could buy my silence quite cheaply, with terms to be agreed upon later.

I am nothing if not fair.