24 July 2008

A crisis last night

I stayed at SOs house last night. Went up after work, shredded up the chicken I cooked this weekend, and fixed the chicken stuffed shells I didn't have time to make last weekend. Baked him some cookies, because he loves cookies--they weren't anything fancy, just the cookies from the refridgerated section of the grocery store, but it's the thought, right? One of the pitbulls supervised. Don't tell his daddy, but I gave him some of the chicken and the shells because I stepped on his tail. I couldn't help it, it's a small kitchen and he has a long tail. I am unused to tails in the kitchen--the only dogs who've been in my kitchen in the last four years don't have them.

Anyway, we go to bed and my mom calls. She has no idea where my beloved Robbie is. First, I was like, "How do you lose a dog?" She thought she had let him in when the twins went out to potty, but had had the front door open to take the trash out and wasn't sure if he'd followed her out. He's pulled that with me one time before; I was halfway to the car before I realized the little black mass next to me was not my shadow. And she's been agitating him lately, telling him that I want to be with his Daddy more than him. I don't know how much English Robbie understands, but he gets upset when I'm not there. He's attached. Then she goes and looks in his "den" (Schipperkes have a thing about making a den, I don't know why), and he's not there. So panic kicks in. I start crying right in front of SO, who has only seen me that upset twice in our entire relationship. And then I tell him I gotta go. Of course I had to struggle to get redressed; SO thought it was wierd that I put a bra on, but he's never chased a Schipperke down the street and a bra is necessary.

Have I mentioned my SO lives an hour from my house? And that it was raining? Well raining is not the right word. Pouring is better for what was happening. So I am driving on windy back country roads, at ridiculously high rates of speed (yes, I know that that is not a good or wise decision, but I have full coverage, and my mother bear instinct was kicking in). I did slow down going through the really curvy parts; I get frantic, not stupid, and if I ended up in the hospital, that wasn't gonna do my dog any good.

All through the ride, I kept calling the house. My mother looked all through the neighborhood for him. She said some man saw her with the flashlight and asked if she needed help. She told him she was just looking for her dog. I've decided calling the house when you are frantic is not good. No one ever has helpful information and you have all that time to just come up with the worst case scenarios. By the time I got to my neighborhood, I had decided my son was either dead, someone had stolen him and he was going to have some crappy name, or he was wandering down Georgia Avenue, terrified and trying to find me.

Y'all, I actually slowed the car down and started calling his name. I even started calling him, Robbie-do, in case he was just not listening because he wasn't sure I was Mummy. I got home, walk in the house, Mom has the saddest look on her face and I don't hear him screaming that I am home. I asked her if she found him, thinking, even if he was dead, he was home, but she said no. So I decide before I spend all night looking for him, I will go back in my room and call him.

That sucka came running out from under my bed. It's dark under there and Mom can't see well, so she couldn't see him. I started SOBBING in relief, and took him out on the porch to cuddle with him, and tell him not to EVER scare me like that. He was licking my face, he was so sorry. I think what happened was that he didn't like the thunderstorm they had last night, so ran in my room. When Mom misplaced him, she went in looking for him. He hides under the bed when he thinks you're mad at him, and I guess he figured when she was yelling for him, she was yelling at him, so he wasn't bursting to come out for her. But he wasted two gallons of my gas. I could have killed him.

All's well that ends well. But it took forever to get to sleep. I have a headache today.


Annie said...

Another harrowing episode in your trials and tribulations with the doggie. I can't believe you were out in that storm last night. Thank goodness everyone is safe and sound (sort of).

Mindy said...

Oh Lord. Smoky is a dark grey cat and hides in places that are almost impossible to see him in. I hate that panic, but he doesn't get outside. I'm sorry you ended up so stressed over it and out in that horrible weather last night (and I certainly don't blame you for being stressed). I'm glad he was home. I picture one of those "Thank God you're OK! What the heck where you thinking??" moments.

MsB said...

Oh dear bubber Robbie-Do. Please tell him Auntie B said not to scare us liek that again.

Miss ya.. love ya..

Au revior!

kimstitch3 said...

awww Bless your heart. Glad your baby boy is ok though and it is a shame you had to leave your SO to run home to a little stinker hiding under your IT is funny now I bet, but not when you were scared to death. Take care,find some time to stitch and relax today, that will do the trick,Kimberly in TN

Pumpkin said...

I'm SO glad that all worked out okay. Why our critter kids decide we need such drama in our lives, I don't know.

~Julie~ said...

I thought I commented on this one but I guess I didn't. It scared the bleep out of me to read it! I had to skip to the end to make sure Robbie was okay before I went back to read the 'beef' of the post! sheesh.

I'm glad all is well and Robbie (and his humamama) are safe and sound.


I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, then it is beautiful. If not, it can’t be helped--Frederick Perls