So Mark tells me this last night when I got home from work (about 12:30)...

M: Oh my gosh, I'm so sore. I ran like 3 miles tonight. I lost my sandals. I ran in the rain, on concrete on bare feet.
J: What! How?
M: Olga saw a dog. She chased after it. I chased after her. She's so fast. I lost my sandals about 3 blocks down, I puked.
J: (dying laughing)
M: I'm glad you're getting enjoyment out of this.
J: I'm just glad it was you and not me, because we'd have a lost dog right now if it were me.
M: When I finally caught her in an alley, I was too tired to yell at her, so I just held her and laid there for a while. My feet hurt.

He then continues to tell me more and more details of the story. It only gets better and better the more I hear it. Apparently he called our neighbor like 3 times trying to get him to go after Olga with his car b/c Mark couldn't keep up. Seriously though, we are both lucky she's safe at home right now.

This is why our dog needs to go to the dog park often. We may need to invest in some dog babysitting. It's lame and sounds insane, but she's a totally different dog when she's had a chance to run free.

Anywho, my dad may get out of the hospital today, and I plan on doing WHATEVER he wants for the next few days before he has to do another round of chemo. This includes a pizza party.