Mum's the Word!

Were you just about to call the police to try to locate me? I haven't gone missing... I've just been stuck with writing material. Ever since I promised Big V I wouldn't print hate-blogs about his stupid dog I'm at a loss. I can't tell you about how V had to reinforce the dog cage again. And again. And again. (Including his creative use of chairs, mops and vacuums - don't ask, because I can't tell you.) I can't tell you about the dog getting out of not only his pen but the actual house, or how Big V woke to the dog barking in the back yard, patio door wide open, and Satan hosting his own doggie party. I can't tell you about coming home and finding the dog sleeping peacefully on our bed, with the bedroom door shut, and his dog pen in the exact same order it was when we left. How he's getting over a 6 foot wall I have no idea. (That's how tall we reinforced it. There's cement board, plywood, duct tape, deck screws - you name it, it's in there.) But I can't tell you about any of it. And it's killing me that I can't say anything.