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Just before 3 p.m. last Friday, I was waiting for my niece to deliver an early supper from Cracker Barrel to my curb at 629 Unaka St.
My 12-year-old Boston terrier, Blackjack, was with me as usual. He decided to go to the lot across the street.
He does this very often, but he then decided to go on down to the house on the alley — all the time I am calling him and even went across the street to call him back, but to no avail.
He went across Tennessee Street at the alley, and I felt he would stay there until my niece arrived, which she did very shortly.
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