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The Runaway Dog in the Tuxedo


I arrived at my old townhouse in order to show it to potential renters today. Because I am a considerate Sorcia, I parked across the street, generously leaving the other spots open for my guests. Thus, into my line of vision sprang a strange hallucination:

A dog in a tuxedo.

Illustration for article titled The Runaway Dog in the Tuxedo

This dog didn't have the hat, but you get the idea.

It was a small dog, some kind of chihuahua mix, just tootling around the neighborhood, like you do, in powder blue formal wear. So obviously I was all, "Welp, I need to get to the bottom of this mystery" and I began to pursue the overdressed pooch. I finally cornered his fancy pants on a shaded porch of an empty house and managed to read his tag, which featured his name and a phone number though not, I was disappointed to notice, any gem stones.


I call the number and an extremely country accent bellows, "Oh my goodness! How did he get out?!"

All I could think was, "Lady, how in the blue fuck did you miss the dog in the GODDAMN TUXEDO slipping out for an afternoon on the town?!"


ETA: As one GTer's clever husband pointed out, she OBVIOUSLY didn't notice "because he was wearing a disguise... I mean, duh."

I mean, it's summer. In the South. And the dog is dolled up to be presented at court. His owner, as it turns out, was at Micky D's, grabbing some equally fancy grub, and rushed back to rescue him from the porch and my not-fancy-enough arms.


I'd describe what she was wearing but believe me: The tuxedo was fancier.

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