The start of Cecie’s third day of school was a sign that we should have a reality show. It was noon. The three of us were sippin’ soda on the front steps so we could usher Cecie onto the bus. It was a no-show. We trooped inside the house to rush her to school (but first, a trip to the porcelain throne for Cecie to do the deed). Outside, the bus zoomed by. I ran to the door to attempt to catch it (apparently it was a running day for me – more on that later). Cecie decided she no longer needed to go #2 (dangerous game, child) and was hot on my heels. In the background Theresa was yelling that the dogs were escaping. The bus was making a u-turn. Peanut (who was wearing a boldly striped knitted sweater, complete with a hoodie and tassel on top) slipped out beside me. Thanks to her ensemble, I was able to grab her with my one free hand (the other was occupied holding my soda). Cecie pushed the door fully open and Cotton burst forth into the freedom with absolutely no desire to EVER. STOP. RUNNING. EVER. AGAIN. By this time, the bus was parked right in front of the house and the driver, teachers, and children were watching our lives unfold. I ran down the steps and after Cotton, abandoning Cecie to Theresa. I had Peanut (in her outfit) in one arm, soda in another. Peanut was bouncing around, her bright red tassel flying in the wind, soda was splashing around. Behind me, Cecie was screaming and wailing. Theresa was yelling at me to give her Peanut, but I felt like I was about 20 miles away from her since I’d obviously been hauling serious ass for the past 10 seconds. Apparently I was screaming my head off throughout the experience as well. Cotton was oblivious to the fear around her and ran in the most appropriate direction: right toward the busiest road around us. Never fear. Ultimately, we retrieved Cotton. Her need to pee in someone’s yard foiled her plans for escape. The bus drove off as I scooped Cotton up off the ground and Cecie made it to school with the knowledge that she would come home to all 7 of her dogs.