Actually that lead in may be a little misleading. This blog is really about a dog and a small miracle. Here's what happened.
A couple of weeks ago I spent the night with some really close friends in another town. All of us had had a very tiring Saturday, and we went to bed before midnight---a rarity on a Saturday night especially since we hadn't visited in a long time. The next morning I awoke early, not in my own bed, you know. I made coffee and was enjoying it. I peeked out the dining room window and could see the big fat Sunday paper in the front yard; the neighborhood was quiet; no one was out. So I decided to dash out in my p.j.'s and bring it in so I could have a look. With coffee cup in one hand I opened the front door with the other, and without a warning their big, blond dog, Daphne, bolted past me and through the door and down the block. My initial reaction was to step just outside and begin to call her back, but she was out of sight. I stepped back inside and began to anguish over whether to wake my friends and tell them of my stupid mistake or get dressed and drive around the neighborhood looking for her. In reality what I did was march outside and call repeatedly, whistle, and beg Daphne to come home. Nothing stirred in the neighborhood. Finally I went inside to change clothes.
The whole time I was dressing I kept asking myself if I should just wake them up and get the whole platoon out searching for Daphne, but I really didn't want to admit my carelessness. Also I knew how little sleep they got during the week, and I didn't want to short change them on their one chance in seven days to rest. By the time I dressed and searched everywere I could for a leash to no avail forty-five minutes had passed since Daphne's dash for freedom. I was feeling sick.
I had just reached my car and unlocked it when I looked up and saw Daphne loping around the house, her big tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. She stopped abruptly and looked at me with her usual "let's play" grin. My mind began one of those "foxhole" prayers which was along the line of, "Please, God, don't let me screw this up. I can't run as fast as this dog." Then the sweetest little high pitched words began to come out of my mouth. "Daphne, look at you; you sweet dog. Come let me pet you. You had such a nice run; you look so thirsty. Come here, sweet thing." Thank God, she took the bait, and I clamped a hand on her collar. We made our way back through the front door. She drank about a quart of water.
I never mentioned any of this to my friends. Does that make me a bad person?
20 comments:
It's good to know you don't mind waking up in someone else's bed.
lol, as long as daphne doesn't begin to show signs of an unplanned pregnancy i'd say let it go. thank goodness for the gulibility of house pets. ;-)
gyuss, you have a real 'mrs. robinson' fetish going don't you??
how's dags gonna feel about you and his ~mom~??
*sorry lit, just trying to win my man back, he seems to be a bit of a wanderer. i've tried leashes, but he bolts for the damn door every time. ;-)
Heather, given GB's "bolt for the door" (ahem) mentality, perhaps he'd really be better paired with Daphne? Just a thought.
I keep insisting that I prefer to be completely tied down, but no one ever breaks out the cuffs.
cuffs i've tried. you never said anything about needing leg irons as well. ;-)
i'm suddenly feeling like cathy bates and am gonna call it a night. god only knows what i'll say if i don't. lol
cheeks likes the picture and wants to know if it's your cat and what the name is.
Yes, it is one of my two cats. Her name is Delilah; she's 13 yrs. old. She came through my backyard fence when she was about 2 mos. old, and my dog, Genevieve (deceased), barked at her until I came to see what the fuss was about. She took a lot of patience and taming, and she is very much a "one woman cat."
Heather--I forgot to say that I didn't mean to lure (though I don't really think I did) GB away from you. He probably has just figured out that I can't run as fast as you can. You keep pulling, and I'll keep pushing.
I thought the story was going to be about how you took the neighbor's paper by mistake. I'm glad Daphne came back. WHew!
my bella is a 'one woman cat' bear on the other hand couldn't care less.
i'll let cheeks know what her name is. my bet is that within a week one of her stuffed animals will be named delilah.
as for g, i'm thinking about telling him i'm taking him to the playboy mansion and dropping him off at the vets instead to get fixed. ;-)
Heather---dropping him off at the vets instead to get fixed. ;-)
Now that made me laugh out loud! GB better be looking over his shoulder.
BTW first tomato sighting. Woohoo!
I'm already fixed! That's what makes me so much fun to play with!
hmmm, fixed by a vet and fixed by a doctor must have different meanings.
cause every animal i've ever seen that has been fixed by a vet no longer had any sex drive left.
*forgot to say they also had lost that wanderlust that i find so pesky.:-)*
Heather---I think you've got GB pegged. (GB, you must love that. [See your comment 5/31].)
Presumably one difference between homosapiens and other animals is memory. So GB's got this whole mind thing going; it's sort of "the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." Not the way we usually use that phrase, but we shouldn't be "fixed" in our thinking, should we?
*sobs* You've all uncovered my horrible secret
it's ok gyuss, just us moms here. cry away. when you're done would you mind mowing the lawn for me? i'm beat.
lit, in ~most~ cases i agree with you. however there are some people out there that are, well, could use a little fixing. ;-)
Heather---let's don't get into politics. We're having too much fun.
I liked the story a lot. I hated the comments.
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