Thinking

That whole death of Penny thing got me to thinking.  I can do a lot of that while laying in the sun in the back yard (not a bad life).  It made me think of Bandit.

Bandit lived across the street.  He was one of those freaky Siberian Huskies with the blue eyes.  He did his own thing and didn't care if anybody else cared or approved.  This is very un-doglike and I didn't approve (still don't) but as a result, he dug out from under his fence and I saw him often.  I guess I have to admire the self-confidence.  He wasn't mean – just independent.  TheMan caught him several times and locked him in the garage until Bandit's family came home and came to get him. 

But he passed away last year and I found out in the same way – a big bag of partially eaten food.  His was better – Alpo I think.  But it was still sad. 

But he totally freaked me out with his attitude – I mean, I want out as badly as the next dog but I know it really make TheMan mad and so I don't want to make that happen but Bandit didn't care.  What's up with that?  Not caring about what your master thinks?  That's just wrong.