(As originally posted on a message board, 12/05/05)
I had the life scared out of me yesterday, and was reminded why I’m so thankful that I’ll be taking all three of the doggies with me when we finally settle in the new house this week.
I was loading boxes in the car and had the gate open. I was interrupted by a phone call from my sister, and sat down to talk to her a sec. After about half an hour on the phone, my doorbell rang. My neighbor was at the door and said the words that none of us ever want to hear:
“One of your dogs is out of the fence.”
He went on to say “It’s the little one, and she won’t come to me.” I dropped the phone and ran out the front door to see Jeany running back and forth along the fence across the street. I called her and she flirted a bit, then thankfully ran to my neighbor…but not before she darted toward the busy street. I walked her back to the house and put her in the yard, then went to find Mr. Lassiter. He hadn’t checked the gate and just let her out the basement door.
Okay, I’ve recovered, I’m loading boxes again, this time having driven the Element inside the fence to avoid another escape. Jeany and Hunky are dancing around me, inspecting the car and trying to hop UP to GO for a RIDEINTHECAR.
Where’s Profile? I head back in and ask Mr. Lassiter. He doesn’t know, he says. “Isn’t he out there with you?” I head back upstairs and check the bedroom. No Profile. PANIC.
I fly back down the stairs and confront Mr. Lassiter who “can’t remember” if Profile went out when Jeany did. He’s yelling at me to find the squawker and I’m yelling at him to get his (very ugly language omitted) outside to help me look for my dog. I run outside, fully losing my composure and screaming for Profile when I see His Royal Silliness across the street down by the lake. He comes flying back up to the house and bypasses my waiting arms to poke his nose through the gate, waiting to be let back in the yard.
Thank goodness both of them are still safe with me…and thank goodness we should be in our new home by the end of the week or there might be a homicide. I will admit to sometimes not looking to make sure the gate is closed before I let the dogs out, but at least I know which dog is where.
And where was Hunky through all this? Snoozing on the sofa.
See, that’s why the other post is called “Mommy is an Idiot…” but should be called “Padlock your Gates.”