Last week I lost the phone. Looked all over the building, some 5400 square feet, and could not find it anywhere. Because of my age, I detest admitting I misplaced something - gives my husband way too much joy because he teases me about it.

I finally admitted the loss and asked him to go to the house and keep calling the cell number till I found it. I was walking down the shedrow and heard the workout music, and in the last kennel with a puppy, Fleur, was that darn cell phone. Fleur had taken it into her crate and buried it in her blanket. When the phone started making music, she picked it up, carried it to her water bowl, and dropped it in.
Guess she feels the same way about cell phones as I do!!!
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