Grandma kept me at home for a couple of weeks after the dog squishing embarrassment. I escaped once, dashing out the door when she opened it. Just before then, a friend had called her, saying a cougar was found under the neighbor’s porch and the wildlife department was trying to capture it.
When I ran off, I heard Grandma yelling, “You’re cougar bait!” I couldn’t tell if she was mad or scared or maybe even glad…
Busted! Another neighbor called her two hours later, “Petey’s over here.”
Grandma picked me up and was NOT happy with me. I could tell because she didn’t say anything. ANYTHING! She just put me in the kennel she had brought, locked the gate and slammed the tailgate down. In the kennel, I had to face the back of the car, not toward her. I whined, but she didn’t say a word. Like I didn’t exist.
“This is not good,” I thought.
She brought me in the house, put the kennel in the back room, and shut the door.
I was in prison. Not just that, but solitary confinement.