Boundaries

My remorse began immediately.  I expected as much, just not so much.  I knew I wanted to experiment with some type of commitment.  I had narrowed it down to: dog, tattoo, wife.  I figured getting a dog would be the easiest to get out of if things went bad.  Of course, commitments always go bad; that's why no one should ever commit to anything.  OK, that's material for another blog.

My yard looks a lot different with the new fence in the back.   More classy and kept-up, even though it's a cheap welded wire job.  I haven't finished yet, so Copper still has to suffer being tied up most of the day.  I tried letting him run loose this morning. He immediately sought out the vulnerable spot where I hadn't installed the gate and took off.  

Later, inside the house I found the evidence of the most heinous offense that I had feared:  Copper had pissed on the carpet.   I don't care how bad the marriage gets, a wife would never do something like that.  It will be basement and garage sleeping arrangements until I get the doggy gates.  Crap, do I really have to get doggy gates?