I was in my kitchen last night doing a rare thing: cooking.  I had the front and back doors open, some chicken on the grill, and some brussel sprouts in the microwave.  I’d just come in to wash my hands from putting the chicken on when I turned around and saw this:

This isn’t a picture from my house but it’s definitely what I saw as I turned around… a bull dog walking in from the hallway.  I was like, “huh?”  I waited for an owner to come in behind him or for someone to shout “hello, who’s home?”  But there was nothing.  Just a dog.  A slobbering, stocky, little man of a beast… who decided to come chill at 1113 for a minute.

I continued with dinner and ate it out on the front porch so Dog could be out in the yard.  I figured someone had to be looking for him but no one came.  Martha came home, named him Brutus, and then he joined us in the living room.  He tried to cozy up to us on the couch (Martha let him) but, as cute as he is, he’s also hella stinky.  I sorta pushed him away.  But he chilled out with us all night just as if he lived there forever.  It was really quite weird.  I got up this morning and he was happy to say hello.

So, the Mystery of the Bull Dog.  That’s one more thing happening at 1113 on top of everything else.  I tell you… just when I think it can’t get weirder at my place, it does.

I’ll let you know what happens.