Sunday, January 04, 2009

Doggone It...

All that silence wasn't meant to last...

After the Monkey got back from his trip to the Air and Space Museum, he decided to take Marshall out in the yard to play. They were chasing each other around and having fun, so I left them to it and busied myself doing housework things.

I was in the back when I heard the Monkey call for me. I've had laryngitis for 3 days, so I couldn't call back. By the time I got to him, what I heard was "Marshall's across the street." And so the chase began...

I tried calling for him, but to no avail. He kept looking back and then charging forward...and let's face it, I'm just not that fast. I lost him after several blocks. He was ambling, but he's much faster than I am. By the time E and the Monkey caught up with me (in a car...with a leash -- E is much more clear headed than I am), I'd lost him somewhere in the woods. He took a turn faster than I could get there and see.

As we drove around the neighborhood, my head was swimming. How was I going to tell the Lost Dog people that the dog was lost...again? "Um...yes, I know we've only had him a week, but he got out..." And, as it turns out, he "got out" because the Monkey, in some misguided attempt to bring him inside, opened the gate for him. Derp.

E drove us back to the house so we could split up. He took the leash. I got the treats. The Monkey got Marshall's favorite toy. E set off on foot, while the Monkey and I were car-bound. We'd made it maybe half a block when we saw Marshall trotting up the street...retracing his steps...heading merrily home after his grand adventure. I quickly got the car back in the driveway and this time, when I called for him, he came immediately and was thrilled to see me.


Somehow, even in the midst of a pretty scary and stressful situation, Marshall managed to be the best dog ever. I'm so glad we adopted him....and incredibly thankful that he's adopted us right back.

3 comments:

eric said...

i remember that vividly

miss shirley said...

We used to have times like that with Kiley when we first adopted her! Mr. Mister would be running around the Marine base trying to head her off at the pass while I was driving around with the door open calling her. Ten years later I still feel exactly the same way you do. Aren't we lucky?

Jason said...

I'm so relieved that this story has a happy ending. I could see the picture of Marshall sleeping out of the bottom of my vision, but I wasn't sure the words below the picture would be "We're happy to have him home" or "I hope we'll get to see his cootey-wootey widdle face again someday"