Ok, I’m officially traumatized. You might think it’s because Herp is now a reddish, brownish, scabby, bumpy, crusty nasty mess having moved from the swollen elephantitis phase yesterday to something today I’m sure resembling more of a black plague kinda thing but actually that has been the least of my issues this morning.
See, originally for today’s post, I was going to rant and rave about Missy and our “sleeping arrangement” last night because the only kind of licks that I want at 4AM is from a tall, dark and handsome human male, not from a little white 4 legged pooch. But clearly the universe has other plans for me and decided to teach me a lesson that I’m still trying to sort out now that I have stopped crying. But as you can imagine, net-net this morning, I wasn’t super happy with Missy. Because, “WE” didn’t sleep very well last night. I guess I should actually say “ME” because I’m sure she slept just fine. And then my sister calls first thing as I proceed to tell her about Missy’s poor sleep over behavior so as you can imagine, by this point, I am not sending a lot of “love and light” Missy’s way in general. But it’s a gorgeous day and Missy and I have been spending a lot of time outside in my big beautiful backyard so I figure, we might as well both get a little Vitamin D, have some space from each other, and while she roams around, I can chat with my Mom on the phone while finishing my smoothie.
Now, please note, as I have mentioned before Missy is very tiny. Yorkie Teacup Terrier tiny. Maybe 1/2 of the size of the neighborhood cat who’s definitely to blame for this entire episode in the first place. Yes, there is a black and white cat that roams around in my yard (that has no tail I might add) and I usually see him about once a day. Now, I have no idea what happened to his tail but I’m sure it’s made for a good story around the catnip water cooler. And come to think of it, I’ve seen a black cat with no tail too. Hmm. Spooky. Not sure if it’s Jr. psycho killer spooky or they just came out on the short side of the stick in some crazy animal fight spooky. And guess what else? I just found out how it gets in. The little hole just his size as he squeezes through underneath the corner side of the gate.
Please note officially for the record (and especially when my sister reads this post), I have for the last week been diligently following Missy around the backyard on total alert for her safety at all times. But what I realized yesterday, is that she is pretty low key, doesn’t seem to be super adventurous and I triple checked the gates on the both sides to make sure they were always shut, etc. so I thought Herp, Hyper-V and I could kick back and have a few moments of rest and enjoy the weather. Plus, when you call her name she comes running at full speed because there is NOTHING she wants more than some attention. Basically, if she could be held all day long, that would be perfectly fine with her. She’s 1/4 dog, 3/4 baby. And I’m definitely past that stage in my life and much more independent than her so that is part of our many issues together.
So, when we were outside yesterday, I decided to stop being a helicopter auntie and give her a few minutes to herself to wander around the place. Then after 3-5 minutes, I would go find her to make sure she was ok. It all seemed perfectly acceptable especially because usually I would find her sitting in the sun somewhere or checking out a plant/tree, whatever so I figured, she’s safe and not going to die (which as you know from an earlier post is a concern of mine). And I’d always know if she was on the right side or the left side of the house even though I couldn’t see her but come on, she’s a grown dog and she doesn’t need to be watched every second, right? Um..wrong.
This morning after I finish breakfast on the patio, I know Missy is on the left side of the house because I saw her hop over there. Yes, she kinda resembles a bit of a bunny when she is leaping through the grass which is practically taller than she is because they haven’t mowed it yet and even I have to admit, it’s super cute to watch. So I give her a few minutes and I call her name. Nothing. Hmm. Missy. Nothing. No running, hopping, barking, Nada. Strange. Missy? I get up and walk all the way down the side of the house to the gate, calling her name the whole time expecting her to come charging out ready for action and still nothing. Odd. Maybe she is on the other side of the house and I didn’t see her cross the lawn? So I start yelling over and over, Missy, Missy, Missy and figure she must be in the garden on the right side instead. Nope.
PANIC SETS IN.
Now, I start screaming, MISSY! MISSY! MISSY! And I run back to the left side again of my very large backyard when I see the small hole in the dirt on the side of the gate. She wouldn’t have gone through it would she??? I open the gate to the driveway and front yard and continue yelling, MISSY! MISSY! MISSY! Nothing. Nowhere. I run out to the street and look both ways and am now working into a full fledged panic attack. No, I haven’t killed Missy, I’ve lost her which I decide in that moment is a thousand times worse than her being dead. See, if I killed her, I wouldn’t have been my fault per se. I agreed to food, water and shelter and if she died, it sure wasn’t going to be on me. But if I lost her, that IS my fault for sure. Because Mr. E says that would make me completely irresponsible, cruel, unkind, uncaring, incompetent and on top of it all totally crush my sister for the rest of her life.
THIS IS NOT GOOD.
Ok, now, I’m crying and frantically thinking what to do next because Missy is definitely gone. I run back through the backyard again, thinking, this can’t be happening. How could this have happened?? It’s only been a few minutes since I last saw her and this little dog doesn’t have much running stamina. I start to dial my sister. Her phone is off. I leave a message, crying of course telling her I can’t find Missy and don’t know what to do. I keep yelling Missy’s name as I’m now starting to get hysterical running into my house to grab my shoes, keys and get in the car to start driving around. She can’t be that far away, right?
I slowly start to drive up and down the streets like a crazy woman, windows down, yelling Missy’s name as I’m mentally already making photo copies of the lost dog flyers (do I even have a photo of Missy?) in what will be in a few more minutes a door to door manhunt for this creature.
Interestingly enough, just 30 minutes earlier, I was just at the local grocery store to get some frozen blueberries for my smoothie and guess what I saw? A lost Yorkie Terrier poster of a little brown doggie in a 49er’s outfit! And of course, I went up to read the sign because I think how horrible to have lost that little cute sweet innocent doggie and the reward is WHAT? $5,000? Insane. Who would pay $5000 to get their dog back? Someone must really love that dog to death. Well, in this very moment, I realized I would pay a million dollars to find Missy so I completely got it. Now, it dawns on me, that was a warning sign from the universe. Great and I missed it.
As I am driving down my street and I start to assume the worst, I’m not going to find her. And she is all alone, scared, hungry, I mean, she doesn’t know this neighborhood so she is never going to find her way home. And what if she gets attacked by a hawk or tail-less cat or another big dog and dies a slow lonely death all because I can’t handle the responsibility of watching this small helpless animal. Plus, remember I wasn’t thinking very nice thoughts about her this morning so I’m pretty sure I’ve brought this on myself. Which makes me feel even worse because I actually can take really good care of her, if I wanted to and she is a very nice doggie, I’m clearly just not a very nice human. Oh, how I miss Missy already and it’s only been 5 minutes.
Now, I’m envisioning having to call back my sister, and she will be of course devastated, I’ve ruined her vacation and her life on top of it all and I feel even more horrible because I must be the world’s worst sister in all of the sister history of the world. And every time I see my sister, for the rest of our lives, I will be a loser. A dog loser.
So after a few minutes up and down the street on both sides, I slowly pull back into the driveway and hear rustling in the ivy bushes on the side of my front yard. Missy? Missy? Please, please, please be Missy. I’m half crying and half begging when I’m calling her name because at this point the only thing left is to start making those flyers and try my sister again for any advice and guess who comes out of the bushes. IT’S MISSY! Thank The Lord Above. And seeing her makes me cry harder because I was so worried and so grateful I had found her all at the same time. I quickly call and text my sister telling her I found her because I had just left her this panic message that I had lost her and then think, Man, I shouldn’t have even called her in the first place and she would have never known!! Now, anything that I was going to try and leverage her for, since I watched Missy in the first place was completely down the drain. Oh well. All that matters is that Missy is home. Hallelujah!
And at that very moment, I love this dog more than life itself. I open the car door and of course she comes right up to me like, Hey, What’s all of the fuss about? I thank the universe profusely again and vow at that moment never to think an unkind thought about Missy again. For the next 4 days, I’m going to super duper love this dog just like it’s my own and am never going to let her out of my sight for a minute.
After a few moments of gathering my emotions together in the car, I bring her inside, put her back in “jail” and wonder if 10:30AM is too early for a drink. I think this has been the most stressful 10 minutes of my life and Herp agrees.