Now That’s a Party

Momservation: Forget partying until the cows come home. We partied until the dog came home. Then the dog joined the party.

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Photo by Ron Silveira

Photo by Ron Silveira (before Darby found her way home)

My dog crashed our 4th of July party.

Seriously. She wasn’t supposed to be there. Call her what you will: jail-breaker, homing pigeon, party crasher—but there she was, to everyone’s surprise, standing at the top of the driveway refusing to believe we would have a party without her.

God love her, our dog Darby is a terrible party guest. She’ll eat the appetizers when you’re not looking. She will jump into the pool onto swimmers and scratch them as she swims by in sole focus of a tennis ball. She will eat off the plates of small children and knock drinks off patio tables with her tail. She will bark at you until you throw her ball. She will interfere and steal the corn bags off your cornhole game.

As much as we think our yellow Lab’s exuberance to be part of the fun is adorable, it quickly turns annoying when you have to spend the entire party putting out the spot fires from your four-legged party arsonist.

So for our annual 4th of July party this year we sent Darby to her best friend Bridget’s house at the far end of our neighborhood. We considered it a fair trade-off for banishing her from the party: her boxer-mix best friend to play with in a Club Med of backyards complete with a pool and acre of running room.

But just as a Kardashian always finds their way in front of a camera, Darby would not be kept from a party in her own backyard.

Darby pre-jailbreak and desperate journey home

Darby pre-jailbreak and desperate journey home

We still don’t know how she broke out of the wrought-iron fenced back yard. We’re not sure how long it took her to find her way the mile back home, but judging by how hard she was panting we’re pretty sure she ran the whole way.

Darby’s motives for ditching her best friend in a secret jailbreak and desperate journey home?

Some say an extreme case of separation anxiety from her mother and real best friend: me.

Others speculate something spooked her like daytime fireworks.

What do I think?

I think I throw a pretty damn good party that even my dog didn’t want to miss.


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