Okay, so I see the handwriting on the wall here.   Every time Slow and Pretty and Smiley Boy take off, I get put in Doggie Jail with Ollie.   Swell.   He’s such a fun guy.   Mopes around all day with those big old mournful different-colored eyes.   See, I think that’s where all his problems started.   If you’ve got one blue eye and one brown eye, that’s just got to be trouble.   I think it makes him bipolar, I really do.   I’ve seen him go flying around the Secret Place with this, like, reckless abandon at such a high rate of speed he looks like a zephyr!   Manic, manic, manic, for sure.   The guy could be on Adderall he’s moving so fast.   And up, up, up, too.   Mr. Personality with those big old ears flying in the wind like wings.   I swear, sometimes I stop and watch him in amazement when he’s in one of his “up” moods.  

He used to be a jumper, too, back in the old days before we became nomadic.   Yep,  the back yard fence at the house on Bee Ridge was nothing to Ollie except a minor inconvenience.   He could leap over that from a standing position like it wasn’t even there, and the rest of us would run up and down it barking like crazy to let the Peeps know that the big fella was gone.   Then, I’d have to endure all this wailing and gnashing of teeth by the Peeps until he did his thing for a while.   They were pathetic.   They’d jump into the truck and drive around the neighborhood and drive around the neighborhood and drive some more and then come back.   No Ollie.   Slow would get all frantic and all “Woe is me”  and stay outside waiting for him to come home.   Pretty would get mad and say that she was going to read a book.   Finally, he’d come sneaking back, and Slow would get all excited and kiss him all over his head and hug him and squeeze him tight like he was this War Hero returning from Iraq.   Geez.   I personally think that’s why he ran away every time – just so Slow would reward his bad behavior.   That’s what Pretty always said, and I think she was right.   Pretty and I agree on so many things about Ollie. 

But that foolishness stopped when Pretty had Slow get that killer electric fence put in when we moved into the little house on Woodrow.   Oh, yeah.   The big fella had to wear this funny-looking collar, and if he got too close to those white flags, you could hear this high-pitched beep and then Ollie would flinch.   Yikes – it must have really zapped him because he gave up his jumping hobby after that.  

But, in Doggie Jail, I get Mr. Sad Smokey Lonesome for the day.   Mr. I’m So Depressed I Think I’ll Be Sad All Day.  Well, Yippeeeee!   Lucky moi for being locked up with a Debbie Downer for hours!   Let’s have a little Fun in here, Big Guy!   Wake up for a minute, and let’s do something really wild, you big lug!   I know.   We could always break into the food storage container and gorge on our food?   Hmmm…no takers on that one.   Well, snap my paws and call me brilliant!   Let’s piss on Pretty’s decorative ironing board.   That’ll be fun and will also punish them for leaving us in here!!   What?   What did you say, O Silent One?   You say that’s why we’re in here in the first place?   Have I noticed that the girls are NEVER in jail?   And it’s because they don’t PISS on anything in the house???   Seriously?   You mean to tell me, we wouldn’t be in jail today if we didn’t take a whiz on a chair occasionally???   Sigh.   And all this time I thought it was just that the Peeps loved the girls better than they do us.   I guess in some small way I feel better.

On the other hand, when they get back from seeing Grandmother Selma and let me out of here, I don’t think I’ll feel good enough to forgive them.    The Wrath of the Red Man Cometh.