Lucy Baby has taught me to be careful about bragging her up. I mean it is amazing how smart she is but just when I get too braggy about her, I'm stunned speechless by something else she's done.
I think I mentioned her escape artist phase? I came home from work one day shocked to see her sitting on the front porch panting. I think she saw me coming and ran home to beat me. Matt fixed what we thought was the problem. A week later, I was putting my key in the door and she rounded the corner of the yard and looked at me like "Hey! What's up?" Um. Why are you out of the back yard?! We eventually got this situation under control. We thought.
I was at the neighbor's house paying my last respects to her husband who was dying of cancer. A group of us sat around making the kind of awkward conversation you make while pretending not to hear the horrible sounds of death approaching in the next room. Someone asked me how little Lucy was doing. I proudly said that she's finally stopped getting out out of the yard. There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Well ..." My neighbor started, "actually, come take a look." I followed her out to the porch, there on her freshly seeded lawn were a hundred little Lucy-sized paw prints. "Also, she's been getting into my pond. And I'm concerned that if she ruins it, it'll be expensive to fix."
"I'm so sorry!" Because what else do you say?
"And our neighbor has been complaining of a raccoon getting into her pond and leaving big muddy foot prints."
A little brown "raccoon" named Lucy.