All I need now is Ethel and Fred

Give me those two, and the "I Love Lucy" episode that has been my life the past few hours would be complete. Let me explain. Sorry, I mean, "'splain."

The Bat Signal goes out late yesterday afternoon that my superpower, reviewing music, is needed at WorkPlay. Jars of Clay are playing there, and unless I don my secret identity and review them, Gotham City South will remain ignorant of that performance's merits, or lack thereof. I assure Commissioner Gordon that I'm on the case, and head out to WorkPlay later that evening.

Just as I'm getting into downtown Birmingham, I notice that the temp gauge on the Batmobile is reading a little high. Almost a lot high, actually. But I don't have a whole lot of time before the concert starts, so I park the Batmobile and go inside.

After the very good concert is over (full review to follow once it's published), I dash to the Batmobile, jump in, start it up, and head back to the Batcave. I know that turning the heater on takes heat off the engine, so I roll down the windows and crank the heater to the "Sun's Core" setting. The whole way home, I'm checking the temp gauge like it's a threat radar in an F-16, praying that I'm not forced to call The Lovely Missus--did I mention she was in bed with a migraine? 'Cause she was--to come get me. Within a mile of my house, I was convinced I wouldn't make it, but the needle dipped a skosh and I was able to pull into the driveway.

Flash-forward to this morning, skipping over a rather restless night for Jacob, which of course means a rather restless night for Daddy. Mama Dunn and Jacob are up, and I realize that the dumpster hasn't become sentient and walked itself to the curb, meaning that I'll have to do it. And, although I know, I know, I KNOW that it's critical to always close the gate to the backyard, I leave it open. Then I go inside, tell MD that I'm going to work on the car in the driveway, and commence to do just that.

If this were a TV movie, maybe titled "Not Without My Pekingeses," the camera would slowly zoom in on that gate, maybe show it slowly creaking in the breeze, then blare a dramatic, "Dum, dum, DUM!" musical sting. Because you know what happened next. The dogs, led by Penelope, who always signals it's elimination time by going to the hearth, spinning, and barking, have to go out. MD, who doesn't know I've stupidly left the gate open, lets them out. And, because dogs are like kids and can sense an opportunity to get into trouble from several miles away, Penelope, Brutus, and Humphrey all three bolt through the gate.

Did I mention that at the bottom of our hill is a major four-lane highway? And that our dogs are all brown, short, easy-to-miss-and-run-over dogs?

Thankfully, they had instead gone up the street. I found this out when our next-door neighbors, who will hereafter be referred to as "The. Best. Neighbors. EVAR!" and who had begun searching for The Fugitive Three when they saw me running around, heard the news from another wonderful neighbor. So I fire up the Batmobile, drive up the street where the fugitives were last seen, and see them. Brutus, who's the definition of a scaredy-dog and whom I can't believe left in the first place, comes to me right away. I stuff him in the car.

Humphrey, who's not afraid of anything, decides to make the old man run around for a little, but finally hunkers down and lets me grab him. In he goes, right next to Brutus. But devious little Penelope knows what's coming, so she goes back down the street, in the eventual direction of the four-lane. Thankfully, the female half of The. Best. Neighbors. EVAR! helped herd her into the backyard.

Of course, we've got company coming tomorrow, so their little excursion in the dewy grass means that all three of the little hairballs will have to be washed tonight, which is always a joy, since they all put out several Chewbaccafuls of hair. Pekes are double-coated dogs, so it's a chore just to get all that hair wet, much less clean.

Here's the real kicker, though. When they're finally back inside, they all give me that look that only big-eyed Pekes can give. The one that says, "Can you possibly stay mad at these faces?"

So, how was your morning?

Absolutely, 100% true update that just happened: Just because this morning has started off so well, Humphrey just decided to make it better by piddling on the newspaper Jacob had been playing with in the floor.