Sometimes we all just want to get away. You know, escape into a fantasy world where money grows on trees and every agent is fighting over who will get to represent your work. Yeah, that's the life.
Last night, my dogs (Lil Britches the pug and Mack the boxer) had their own dreams of escaping. Maybe they were off to fulfill their doggie dreams of meeting Tinkerbell (Paris Hilton's Chihuahua and their celebrity doggie girlfriend) or, possibly, they were searching for doggie treasure. Who knows?
Although, I will never know what was going through their mind's last night, (believe me, I tried to find out what they were up to, but they wouldn't tell me) I certainly know what was running through mine. And it wasn't Tinkerbell or doggie treasure.
2:00AM - My wonderful dreams of hot boys, in exotic far off lands, is cut short. I am awakened by curse words I would never dare repeat. Plus, the banging of shoes against a ceramic tile floor is very hard to ignore. Lots and lots of banging. "They're gone," my husband says, agitated.
"What are you talking about?" I ask still remembering the hot boys, not wanting to wake up. It's much to cold to be out from underneath the covers.
"The dogs are GONE!"
Okay, so now I'm up. At first I'm thinking they couldn't have traveled very far. I only let them outside a few minutes ago. How far could they have gone in that amount of time, right?
At least that's what I was thinking until I saw the clock and realized that over an hour had passed since I stumbled out of bed to let the dogs out.
PANIC MODE IS NOW IN FULL SWING
Jumping out of bed, my hair looking like I've just escaped the Looney bin--Medusa style (so attractive I'm sure, but who's going to see me at this hour?) I traipse outside, in my pajamas, of course, to look for my puppies.
3:00 AM - The dogs are gone. GONE! It starts to sink in that we might not find them. Refusing to give up, I jump in the car and head off to look for them. Still thinking, how far could they have gotten?
3:30 AM - So there I am. In my pajamas. My hair...ugh. Temperatures easily 20 below. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating. It sure felt like it, though.
Slowly I drive down the neighborhood streets. No one is out. Of course no one is out...it's three freakin' thirty in the morning. And who is out that early in the morning? No one. Except, maybe, robbers. Yeah, definitely robbers.
A few minutes pass and still no dogs. Dumb dogs. Then I begin to think...hmmm...I probably look like robber: driving slowly down the desolate streets, looking suspiciously at people's houses. Fortunately for them...I'm not a robber. Fortunately for me...no one is out. Dumb dogs.
3:45 AM - More searching and still ... NO DOGS. Nothing. Well, almost nothing.
Inching down the street, literally at a snails pace, I'm so consumed with looking for something that resembles one or both of my puppies that I don't even notice a person jogging down the road, eyeing me conspicuously. I don't blame him. I would look at me funny too: crazy hair, creeping down the road, casing joints, lookin' for doggies.
He must not have been too worried. Or maybe he just felt sorry for me...just escaping from the Looney bin and all. He didn't bother to stop, thankfully. But, then I began to wonder. What in the world was he doing, jogging, in skimpy jogging outfits, in the artic air, so early in the morning? Robbers? Umm...probably not.
Then it dawned on me. I knew exactly what he was.
Who else would be up this early, running, wearing something so skimpy?
Uh...NO ONE. He was definitely a vampire.
So, what did I do?
Well, first, I double checked to make sure it wasn't Edward (sadly, it wasn't) before I booked it.
4:00 AM - Back home. Still, no dogs. My husband didn't have any luck finding them either. Also, he didn't encounter any vampires on his trek. I checked. You know, to make sure he didn't find Edward or something.
5:00 AM - Sitting in bed, I wait. What else can I do but wait? Nothing. Clearly, the doggies had found their treasure and weren't planning to share. Or they had found their celebrity girlfriend, Tinkerbell, and in that case, I didn't want to know what was going on.
So I wait. We wait. And wait. And wait.
All sorts of bad things are running through my mind at this point. Poor puppies. They must be so scared...being lost and all.
6:00 AM - I hear a scratch at my bedroom window. My heart fills with hope that they've fulfilled their doggie dreams and have returned home. Running to the back door, nearly knocking down my husband in the process, I swing the door open to find...Mack.
Mackey was home at last, but no Lil Britches. So what did I do? First, I hugged and kissed him. He seemed a little shaken up. I didn't ask what happened, but I did ask, "Mackey, where's Lil Britches?"
He turned his head. It was cute, but no answer. Looking around the house, proves unsuccessful. He is no where to be found. Clearly, they had gotten separated.
6:15 AM - Driving around the neighborhood, again. This time... no vampires. No Lil Britches, either.
8:00 AM - I head to work, extremely tired, irritated, worried, and tired. Opps... did I already say that?
8:30 AM - Arrived at work...tired. My husband stayed home just in case he decided to come back after his night out on the town. He didn't. So, I started searching for phone number to the doggie jail.
It's every dog owners dream to spring their dog from doggie jail. Didn't you know that?
After visiting the City's website and seeing the rules for owning dogs in this city, which are completely ridiculous, I kind of hope he doesn't get caught by the dog patrol. I mean, how am I going to convince my husband that we will need to get a doggie bail bondsman to get him out of doggie jail? I'm not sure if he would go for it. (Seriously, the fines for not getting your dogs licensed in this city are, again, RIDICULOUS!)
9:00 AM - My husband calls. Someone found Lil Britches...two miles away. "TWO MILES," I say. How is it he got two miles, and when I take him on a walk around the block, he can't make it up the street? Hmm?
Needless to say, I was happy he got home safely. And extremely grateful to those nice people who brought him home.
So, I guess everyone does need to just get away, sometimes. Dogs included.
Clearly, they have it SO hard!