On the other hand, he’s not exactly quick

I am not a slow thinker!
I am not a slow thinker!
I am not a slow thinker!
Just because I didn’t secure Shayna in the car, and she’s gotten loose three times before I made tying her in a habit, does not make me a slow thinker.
Stupid, maybe, but not slow. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a slow thinker.
Besides, none of the three times was it my fault Shayna was able to bolt to freedom. And, what kind of an act by the Devil made the escape possible?
Well, I’m going to tell you my conclusion, reached after considerable, but not slow, thinking.
The Devil is in the design of the automobile makers who try with every new model to make our lives more confusing. They tell us drivers ‘convenience? is involved.
Balderdash and poppycock!
Every one of these changes made to our 4-wheel conveyances is meant strictly for that ugly, unless you’re one of them, word ‘profit.?
No way in hell do I need a door opening gadget that by the push of a button opens any of three doors on my mini-van. But that’s how my 2002 model came.
I could have exited my Model A on the driver’s side and Shayna couldn’t have found freedom with a crowbar. (She could get out of my 1969 VW ’cause it’s a convertible. Even I could get out of that one.)
Anyway, this key-attached opening system, which also has a stupid alarm button right under your most active finger, has these buttons so sensitive that just a nudge from pocket change will begin a slide.
And when you’re in a hurry, like getting out and into a store before you forget whatever you’re after, see I’ve forgotten what it was already, the button may have been hit and the door sliding without your noticing.
And, so it’s been.
Three times.
Of course, I’ve only had Shayna a couple years, and, even though we’ve been to dog training school, she either doesn’t know her name or refuses to come when called by me.
She will, however, go to anyone else who calls. She not only goes to them, but immediately lays down in front of them, displaying her scratch-needing belly.
Man or woman, anyone but me, she reacts the same.
This time was different. Shayna had several minutes head start before I came out of the store, because, like I said I didn’t hear that door open.
I alerted daughter Luan, and the two of us circled the blocks, and glanced many times down the busy state highway M-24.
Knowing Shayna’s friendliness, I decided to go home and see if I had a ‘found? message on my phone.
I had gotten Shayna from K-N Stray Rescue League in Oxford. They insist on their dogs wearing a tag with the League’s phone number and dog name.
I didn’t have a call waiting, but soon after getting home Brenda called. ‘Did you lose track of Shayna?? she asked.
‘They have her at Clean Cars used cars on M-24.?
Shayna barely looked at me when I got there. She was so busy being petted and made over by Heather. She’d apparently forgotten who gives her ice cream, wieners, sweet rolls, table scraps and dirty plates to lick.
‘She’s such a nice dog,? Heather said.
Nice, hell. She’s a truant!
But, maybe I should have thought a little quicker about tying Shayna in the car.

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