Yesterday I had a few meetings down by MIT, and on my way home I stopped by the dog daycare to pick up Dog. Whenever I pick up the kids OR the dog at daycare, I am always very curious to see them in action. How do they behave when they don’t know that I’m watching them? With the kids I always try to peer in the windows before they spot me, but Dog’s daycare is trickier. There’s an elaborate system of corridors and doors that prevents the dogs from escaping, and coincidentally also prevents the owners from seeing into the main area. Usually I have the kids waiting in the car, so I wait outside the door while they retrieve the dog.

So I took advantage of the kids’ absence to go inside and poke my head over the half-door that separates the vestibule from the staging area. The first thing I noticed was that syrupy Muzak was playing, loudly, over the PA system. It reminded me of that scene in Cuckoo’s Nest where the inmates are being given their medication. I could imagine a veterinary Nurse Ratched in there: “Mr. MacMurphy! Time for your dog treats!”

Then three dogs rushed the door, including an enormous one who looked like a Lab on steroids. “That’s Mojo,” the attendant told me. His giant head loomed over the door, even when he had all four paws on the ground.

“Mojo’s a big one,” I said.

The attendant managed to let my dog out through the half-door without letting the others escape, and then Dog and I exited through the front door. Suddenly, though, Mojo was in the parking lot, unleashed, right next to us. He had jumped over the half-door that was supposed to contain the dogs in the staging area.

My first thought was, “Hey, it’s Chief Broom making a break for it!”

We managed to get Mojo before he made it to the highway.