Having undertaken and conquered denuding the vegetation, stripping the bathroom, and leaping from the sofa onto the dining room table, Jack is now under the deck digging holes.
He’d better succeed in making China, because the deck is only about 15 inches off the ground, and if he stays down there too long, he’ll grow up and get stuck.
He’s probably already written his breeder to complain about starring in a Louis Sachar novel.
A post-script to the above. Under the deck, Jack found an old white plastic bag with a stick in it. Now he’s running around the yard, being chased by a lure. I’m pretty sure this is the equivalent of being smacked in the face by a baseball when you’re a ten-year old boy. He’s probably scarred for life…
I ain't gettin' chased by no stinkin' bag...
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Sounds like another great day to be a pup.