Dang Dog

So, last night I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business and playing the Sims. J was napping on the couch, the TV was on as background noise, and all was well. Then Bernie asked to go out. No problem, I'll open the door for you. So I let him out, and J's two dogs go as well. A few minutes later, his dogs are in, but Bernie is nowhere to be found.

I go outside and stand on the porch and call for him - "Bernie? Come on, Bernie!" But no Bernie. He has never shown any desire to run off at all, so I started to get worried almost immediately. My first thought, as always, is that he somehow fell in the pool and can't get himself back out. I walk back to the dining room and look out at the pool, but the water is all clear and calm. So, he's not there, that's good. And he still isn't out front, so I put on my shoes and a coat, and I go walking outside. I walk around the front yard and the side yard and back to the pool (just in case) and then back to the front, and then around to the other side, and all the time I'm yelling for him. But he doesn't come trotting up to me, and I don't hear him barking or whining or making any noise whatsoever.

I go back inside and J asks what's going on (he woke up to watch the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special), and I tell him that Bernie is gone. Now by this point, I'm already pretty upset, so I'm sure it comes out as, "Bernie's gone!" And of course that is meant to be all full of hysteria and on the edge of tears. I love all of my animals - that includes J's, of course - and I don't want any of them to go missing. Ever.

So J gets up and puts on his shoes and gets his keys and starts driving around looking for Bernie, while I keep yelling his name. I start to cry, because I just know I'm never going to see him again. He wasn't wearing his collar, because I never put it back on after his bath, so if he was found, no one would know where he belonged. And what if someone picked him up? Or what if he fell in a hole or somehow got hurt? All of the worst case scenarios set up house in my brain.

J drove down the street to the left, then came back and drove down the street to the right, and then came back and drove up the farm access road across the street, and still no Bernie. Then J started back down the road to the left, and I was in the yard, crying and calling Bernie's name. And then all of a sudden there he is, trotting up the driveway and around the snow fence. My Bernie is back!

I give him a big hug and cry into his fur, asking him where the heck he was, and telling him NEVER to do that to me again. I feel him all over, and he feels fine, except for some burdocks in his tail. J comes back, and sees that Bernie is back, so he tells him that he better tell me I'm sorry, and then he parks his car and comes in. Bernie and I go in, and I sit on the futon next to J and take some time to calm back down, while Bernie lays in his crate and thinks about what he's done. Or wonders what all the fuss was about, more likely. And J and I rewind the Thanksgiving special, which was completely over by the time Bernie came home, and watch it.

Once it's over, I take some scissors and cut the burdocks out Bernie's tail, and manage to cut a hunk out of my middle finger in the process. And I told him over and over that he is never to do that to me again, never! Dang dog.

So, drama over, J goes to work, and I go to bed with tired, achy eyes - crying always does a number on them. My finger is aching where I cut it, my eyes are sore, my face feels all puffy, and I can't believe how close I came to losing my dog. Also, I'm in bed alone, and it's lonely - I really wanted J's arms around me. They will be tonight, hopefully, if he doesn't get called in. And I go to sleep and dream weird dreams.

This morning, when I let Bernie out, I walked outside and watched him until he came in. It'll be a long time before I trust him again. And I put his collar back on him, just in case.

Dang dog.