Doggie drama

Brian headed to the Eastern Sierra the other day to find a place for us to live. I'm still teaching summer school, so we got Amy, our favorite babysitter, to stay with Jack. This was our first time leaving Jack with a babysitter for a whole day. Usually, Casey stays in the backyard when we have babysitters--or almost any kind of company, for that matter--but that morning, she was actually acting OK with Amy. I put her in the backyard before leaving, but told Amy that she could let Casey in if she wanted.
Fast forward to my second English class of the day. My cell phone started ringing. I apologized to my class--they can't leave their cell phones on--and joked that it was probably the babysitter. I told myself I'd check for messages at lunch. A few minutes later, I got a call from the office on my walkie-talkie: "Lisa, could you please call your babysitter?"
Luckily, I have an aide who can watch the class for a few minutes, so I went outside to check my messages. Amy's mom had left a message. Amy'd let Casey in, and when she went to put Jack down for his nap, Casey got in the rooom and wouldn't come out. What's more, she wouldn't let Amy get near Jack. She'd jumped up on the daybed in Jack's room and was lunging and barking at Amy!
Amy called her mom, who came over along with the Joseph Widmer PTC president and her son. They tried everything they could to get to Jack, including going outside to see if they could open the window and pull Jack through that. (Jack, meanwhile, was having a great old time, laughing in his crib at all the commotion.) They made an executive decision to call Animal Control, but then left the message with me asking if I might be able to make it there before Animal Control came. The message contained a lot of screaming and some barking, so of course I was alarmed. I didn't even bother calling them back--I went back in my class to grab my purse, tears already streaming down my cheeks, and checked in at the office to make sure I could make a run home. On the way there, I called Amy. Her mom answered the phone and told me that I didn't have to come; Animal Control was able to get Casey off the bed and outside.
Of course, Jack didn't really want to take a nap after that... but at least no one was hurt. And we can all laugh about it now. My students later said, "Man, Mrs. Marshall, you cry easily!" and kept asking what kind of dog I have. "She's a black lab mix," I told them... with issues. At what point do we consult a doggie psychologist?