My dog chases after squirrels. She pushes her way out the door and bolts from tree to tree, stopping only long enough to jump as high as she can, sniff a little, then off to the next one. She lets the squirrels' scent to take her all the way around the block where she runs into her friend Margot. Sometimes she forgets to come home.
I think this dog is a lot like I am. I chase after squirrels of my own. Running from tree to tree of whatever catches my attention, sometimes forgetting my way home. Sometimes home isn't exciting enough for me.
Sometimes it takes me five hours to convince myself to get in the car and drive home.
But then again sometimes coming home is just what I need.