Dumb Luck Dog: It’s Gotta Be Jarrett

Jarrett was first spotted just off a rural Alabama road trapped in a briar patch howling wretchedly. An offer of cold pizza caught his curiosity long enough to hold still so Benoit could extricate him from the thorny brush.
  Apparently he was a wall-eyed Cocker Spaniel with an unkempt black-and-white coat. How he arrived in the middle of nowhere was anyone’s guess. Benoit tossed him in the bed of his pick-up and headed off to Classic City.

Jarrett never did fully adjust to domestic life on Papal Street. Sweet yet rambunctious, he knocked things over and generally created an annoying mess. He was endearingly referred to as being a “spazz.” To remedy, a tilt from a Mickey’s Big Mouth would puddle onto the hardwood oak floor, which Jarrett would happily lap up. It proved an effective relaxant.
  He would come and go, often escaping the house or backyard lead to wander off on great adventures, no doubt. One afternoon he mysteriously trotted through the front door with matted, sticky goo covering his daggy regions; hence, another nickname: “Bubblegum Butt.”
  One sighting placed him crossing Princely Avenue, oblivious to the four-lane traffic he miraculously passed through. Dumb luck? He was found in a nearby car park nonchalantly sniffing a pile of discarded clothes outside the Potter’s Haus.
  Benoit’s housemate Stoddard arrived home one day to furious yelping from the backyard. There by a tree was Jarrett, impossibly tangled up like a knot in his doggie line — a veritable canine pretzel. Efforts to unbind him were met with snapping jaws, so Stoddard phoned Benoit at work down at the Gristle. Five minutes later Benoit was there with his bowie knife to quickly free the hapless hound.
  Indeed, Jarrett’s exploits were quite foolhardy, often resulting in folly sometimes bordering on idiocy. Survival was considered a fluke. His experiences raised interesting questions: Can dogs have autism? Or guardian angels for that matter?
  After Benoit’s passing, memory of Jarrett faded into fuzziness. Was he given away? Some think he ran off.

Some months later word got around about the dog. Evidently Jarrett was sighted off Park Avenue, romping around the yard of some hippies. Fatter and happier, but doubtfully any smarter. A benediction from St. Francis, perhaps?