Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Pappy

So, after our visit to Dallas we went directly to pick up Pappy. We made the mistake of taking SuperShuttle down from Baltimore-Washington Airport to our friends' house in Alexandria, Virginia, undergoing a two and a half hour meander through parking lots and back alleys of DC under the lunatic guidance of a possessed GPS.

We arrived before anyone was home. Pappy barked at us through the window in the front door until he worked out who we were, whereupon he commenced weeping, wailing, and pawing his way through the glass. Though misleading, my previous post about the composition of our friends' family was accurate. The pre-college teenage son came up shortly after we arrived. Whenever I see him I like to remind him that, when he was two years-old, I babysat him and wiped his butt. It's important for kids to know their history... where they came from.

He gave us a quick report card on Pappy's performance. Pappy was a good boy and a lot of fun. Pre-college son said he spent, like, an hour wrestling on the floor with Pappy. (Huh? Pappy doesn't wrestle. He shoves balls in your lap.) Pappy was afraid of the bare wooden steps (Okay, I can see this one. He always looks like a bag of broomsticks going down stairs, and slippery steps would probably freak him out.) And he would stand up on the landing and bark. (Huh? Pappy doesn't bark unless Timmy has fallen in the well. Did they check the well?)

All of this left me thinking that this wasn't my dog. But he looks like my dog. Suspicious. I'm going to have to keep an eye on him.