As we become acutely aware of the sun setting on Sandy's long and robust life, we tend to let more and more things slide with her behavior. I turn my head the other way when I see sandwich crusts being slipped under the table or notice that while I went to grab a spoon the evil, vile broccoli has disappeared from Mr. Boys plate at lightening speed, and later that evening Sandy will emit some noxious fumes that will let me know that Mr. Boy did not eat his broccoli.
Sandy has never wandered far from home, however lately she seems to try and slip out at night to roam the neighbors yards. Tonight, I tried to hurry the wee ones inside barking orders of "Brush your teeth, put on jammies" while I unloaded the groceries. I never even noticed Sandy had slipped out. She doesn't get up to greet us at the door anymore, it's too hard on the hips.
After the wee ones were tucked in bed and the groceries were put away... I sat down to read and noticed my footrest aka Sandy was missing. I wandered around looking for her, when I heard a bark from the front yard. I peeked out the window to find Sandy looking very guilty. Her look says, "Crap, I missed curfew and they locked me out." I let her in, and said, "You're a little too old to be slinking around the neighborhood at these late hours." Then I started to sing "Roxanne" to her. I'm confident making Sandy endure my singing was punishment enough.