Brought to you today by Annie and Scotty.
Oh, you could just take off. Find the fence gate ajar one night and realize that there is nothing between you and bottom-dwelling debauchery of the blackest kind.
So you take off running. Hey, your friend is doing it. Never mind that your friend there has never been quite right in the head - fears cats, hates exercise, and humps guys. But you go along for the ride.
And soon you are the one in the lead, diving headfirst into a long, hard night of partying, howling at the moon, chasing tails, and getting burrs stuck all up in your short hairs.
In the morning, feeling shame, hunger, and thirst for something wetter than water, you head for the light right ahead. It's a church. And there are children. Loud, loud, happy children. It hurts. But kids are a welcome change from some of the characters you met last night, so you smile and lick faces as expected.
Until you hear the unmistakable sound of the law. "Are these the strays you called about?"
Then the sound of the steel door slamming shut behind you. You are pretty sure you deserve this, as bits of the night's depraved offences pop up in your damaged memory, but you are scared nonetheless. You've had it so easy. You don't know the rules in the Big House. And the noise! You are afraid the noise will surely kill you. Or in some way lead to your death.
And then there she is. Your savior. You didn't think she could forgive you this time, and yet there she is, asking you to get in the car. She doesn't look happy (how could she after bailing you out of jail?), but she doesn't have that scary look either.
The hangover will not go away, your feet hurt, and you don't know where all these scrapes and bruises came from, but you are home. She feeds you and lets you go out again, to the same fenced yard you took advantage of last night. But it hurts so bad, you just lay down in the soft grass and sleep.