I haven’t blogged about our boy Jones in quite some time (I know, I haven’t blogged in quite some time, full stop), but recent events have inspired me to put fingers to key pad and tell you a story about Jones.

Jones turned 5 in May this year. Amazing ha? I still remember him turning 1 so clearly. He’s now 35 in human years. No wonder he’s maturing and slowing down (for the most part).

When I blogged about Jones’ 1st birthday, I reviewed his behaviour, and one of the things I rated him highly on was his entertainment value. It didn’t take long for Jones to reveal his sense of humour to us, and his ability to entertain us continues.

Last soccer season (I play Friday night women’s soccer in winter now), Jones, attached to a lead being held by Hubs, got bored of being a spectator on the sideline, and he squirmed and swivelled his way out of his collar, ran onto the field and started pelting around with us chasing the ball. Quickly realising it was impossible to catch him, we all suddenly stood very still and Jones, sensing the fun was over, gradually tired of the game and trotted back over to Hubs who sheepishly slipped his collar back over his head.

‘Get him out go here!’ the ref yelled. Hubs tried to reassure him that the situation had been contained and all was good, but the ref was hearing nothing of it. He showed Jones a red card, blew his whistle and pointed towards the cars, ‘I said get him OUT OF HERE!’ Poor Jonesy had to spend the remainder of the game in the car and I pretended I didn’t know the guy on the sideline who’d had the dog. We won our game that night though, and all wondered if Jones was actually our good omen.

There are many other stories I could recount, but what I really wanted to tell you about happened just the other week.

Jones regularly accompanies us on the morning school run. He either sits on the front seat next to The Kid, on my lap with his face hanging out the window, or, once we get into town, on the back seat hiding from the police. When The Kid was younger, and still had a car seat, Jones would sit in that for the return trip so he could get a better view out the window.

The other week, we headed off to school as normal, in the ute, Jones on board. After parking, I walked The Kid into the playground before heading into the school office and then into The Kid’s classroom to have a chat with his teacher. Returning to the ute, my stomach lurched as I opened the door and realised Jones was no longer in the vehicle. My heart raced as I pulled each chair forward in a vain attempt to find Jones hiding somewhere. With a gasp, I suddenly noticed, The Kid had left the passenger window wide open.

He’s jumped out of the car, I thought, my breathing becoming shallow. My eyes darted up and down the street. No sign. Thank goodness our local school is on a quiet road but still I worried. Panic rising, I turned and asked another Mum as she emerged from her house whether she’d seen a small white dog? No? You sure? Mid conversation my phone rang in my pocket. I fumbled for it, and saw it was one of the ‘office ladies’ calling.

‘Hi Leonie?’

‘Ah, Bec. Just wondering if that’s your little white dog who’s tearing around the school grounds with 150 kids chasing after him?’

‘Shit!’ I said, as I ran back towards the school. I was immediately met by 2 little kindergarten kids who gestured with their arms and in unison told me my dog was ‘running that way!’ I bolted to the assembly area where a teacher stood, simply pointing towards the canteen. I followed her direction and nearly ran into The Kid’s kindergarten teacher from 2 years ago.

‘Have you seen Jones?’ I asked Mr. T.

‘Well, it depends on who Jones is, but your son has just taken a small white dog up to the school office.’

Off I ran again.

And there was The Kid, surrounded by his mates, smiling ear to ear, holding Jones in both arms. Jones, also smiling ear to ear was panting, tongue lolling, looking satisfied.

Turned out Jones was just curious. We’ve been dropping The Kid off to school for nearly 3 years now, without Jones once setting paw in the place, and he wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Where does The Kid go?, he wondered. What does he do? Who is he with? What does he play? Why is he there?

And now he knows. He saw a literal window of opportunity to answer these questions, and he took it, well, technically he jumped through it.

I’m careful not to leave the windows down too low now. Having got a sense of all the fun and games that go on in that place, Jones would be back in there like a shot. Red card or not.

Jones hanging out at the Krambach Pub