A guest posting

This post brought to you by "No, Sydney $%&@!!*! Hodges".


If there's one thing my almost fifty years (Ed's note: Dog-years) on this earth has taught me, it's that the two legged creatures just love it when you're unpredictable.

Sure, I've had some great moments - making the one called Jennifer chase me through the neighborhood in her pajamas after the wind blew the fence down, or even making the one called Chad assist me in passing the sheet I ate (while he was wearing his bathrobe and geisha slippers of course). But the last 10 days are my piece de resistance.

It seems the ones called Doug and Betty are accustomed to imprisoning my comrades-in-arms, Gracie and Rosie. They were not, however, prepared for my canine wiles. After they constructed the initial barricade I lulled them into a false sense of security, only to escape by squeezing myself between the steps up to the deck.

Once they closed that escape route, I managed to squeeze underneath the fence at another point. Having that blocked by rocks only increased the satisfaction I felt, squeezing out at another point. Regrettably I was captured before penetrating the second fence, once in a truly despicable ruse involving the opening of a car door (I loves me some car rides).

My antics were not limited solely to escape, however. Like all good guerrillas I took the fight to the oppressors, by urinating (repeatedly) in the master bedroom. These tactics, coupled with Comrade Jackson's whining and hallway defecation are sure to strike terror into the hearts of the oppressors.

Neurotically yours,

Sydney