Gemotions

The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Gable was at it again, a frantic look on her face. "Buddy's out! He's in your azaleas this time!" I opened the door, a half-eaten sandwich still in my hand. My gaze drifted toward Buddy, a golden retriever, merrily digging in the flower bed. Frankly, I just didn't get it. This was the third time this week.

"Are you sure he didn't just… wander in?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. The gate, as always, was perfectly latched. Mrs. Gable insisted it was a malfunction.

“He's a Houdini, I tell you!" she shrieked, as if that explained everything. I sighed, setting the sandwich down. Fine. I'd retrieve the dog. Again.