So I told this story earlier and someone told me I need to write it down. This is where I do that.
Picture the picture from yesterday, same basic spot, only now the grass is mowed...mown...shorter and it was dark. It was around 10 p.m. Just before, I watched Jack disappear through the dog door and decided to just trundle on to bed. He'd make his own way back in.
And he didn't come in. And he didn't come in. This is where the barking normally commences but it was quiet. I went out to check, unlocking locks and flipping on the lights outside to see this crazy dog, nearly hidden down by the fence in a frozen pose...
With an empty potato chip bag over his head.
The same bag I'd put on the counter to throw out with the overflowing bag ready to go out as soon as the sun came up this morning. Let's not get hung up on why I hadn't already taken out the trash and started a new bag. It was hot and then it was dark and I am lazy. That part's not important. It's what he did with the bag.
It was over his head. Pointing straight up in the air but over his head.
I called him. He didn't move. I walked over and pulled the bag off and he shot me this, "Geesh, thanks, man!" look but he didn't move until I called him.
He looked a little traumatized last night so I tried not to laugh too much.
He was better this morning so I've been laughing about it since.