Glenda, the good dog

During our latest excursion to the cabin, the kids found what seemed to be as lost house dog down by the river. As hard as they tried to leave the unfamiliar dog alone, she seemes to grow attached to my stepson, whom she followed determinedly. We brought her inside, having no real say in the matter, and immediately began calling our neighbors to determine exactly who the dog belonged to, while the kids decided they simply HAD to name her. In another of their famous strokes of oddity, they finally decided on Glenda, of all things. By this point, we knew Glenda must have belonged to SOMEONE, because she was, frankly, trained even better than our own dog (who is, incidentally, the same breed!)

After countless phone calls, we finally found the person who owned Glenda, or as she was ACTUALLY called, Midnight, a sweet woman from a few houses down! She came by to pick up the pooch the next day, as night had fallen by now, and after “tearful” goodbyes, we waved farewell to our new friend.

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