Where, O Where Has My Little Dog Gone?

A few weeks ago, we said our sad goodbyes to our sweet Daisy dog.  She lived a good life being obedient and sweet and loving and gentle and putting up with the craziness that comes with knowing Bo The Dumb Dog.  We were all very sad at the thought of losing her.  Bo was even sadder still.

A dog's gotta have a night out every once in a while.

Without Daisy to boss around in the back yard, he would stand at the window and lick it.  Dumb.  I told ya.  The Dad and I felt sorry for him and let him in at night so he wouldn't be so lonesome outside by himself.  The Dad was not keen on this idea, but he knew that appearing cold-hearted toward Bo The Dumb (and mourning) Dog would land him in the dog house, so he went along with it.

Last week, the day before our glorious Spring Break was to begin, The Dad and had the windows open and the front doors open allowing the beautiful and fresh spring air to flow freely through our house.  We had Bo in and he was sitting at our feet.  We were watching a DVR'd episode of GCB (that show is funny as sin, y'all!) and feeling all Norman Rockwell and whatnot at the serene picture we presented.  Amanda showed those snooty CBs a thing or two, the show was over and we stood up to go to bed.

We stretched and walked back toward the bedroom and The Dad said, "Did you put Bo out?"  Well, now that he mentioned it - I did not.  The Dad went on to bed.  He wakes up about 2 hours before I start the smack-down on my snooze button.  I went to the living room to find Bo.

Bo was not there.  I checked the back yard in case he let himself out (he can let himself in - true story!).  He was not there.  I unlocked and reopened the front door.  There that dumb dog was sitting in the middle of the street.  Just sitting.  I whistled for him and made the kissy sounds.  He sat.  I walked, barefoot and in my nighty through our front yard, stepped off the curb and reached out to snag his collar, and he tore off.

First, he got every single dog in a three-block area to begin barking and cheering him on.  I imagined they were saying, "Bark Free, Boy!"

Then he chased a squirrel through a flower garden (not ours) and up a tree.  Then he discovered the neighbor's cat sitting inside their front window, so he sat outside their darkened front window and howled at the injustice of not being able to reach said cat, I supposed.

I grumbled a few choice words and returned to my house to get some shoes on.  There was no way I could even hope to catch him barefooted.  (There was seriously no way to even hope to catch him with shoes on, but I wanted no excuses!)

I returned to my front door and discovered almost every single front porch light was now on.  I'm sure they were wondering why the doggie troops were rallying and who had fallen in the well.  I stood on my own lit up front porch and decided that if any neighbor came out and saw me in my PJs, I'd just tell them I was wondering what all the ruckus was as well.  There'd be no way I'd admit to Bo being the stirrer of said-ruckus!  That is if he ever came home again.

And I stood there.

And I stood there.

And I stood there.

Then I whistled some and stood.  I made the kissy sounds to no avail.  Eventually, the barking stopped and squirrels felt comfortable enough to move around again; Bo, however,  was nowhere to be seen.  I thought about leaving him out all night.  And if the dog catchers got him, they could have him!  I was tired!  I needed rest!

Then I remembered how sad the little guy was at losing his best friend, and he was just acting out to get our attention (because dogs, like 3 year olds, often act the exact same way).

Then I worried that he would return home, find the door shut and wouldn't understand about the Tough Love Parenting Movement, so I thought about leaving the door open.  Then I thought better of that idea.

So, I stood there some more.

I was standing there watching absolutely nothing happen in my neighborhood when I was pushed from behind!  I screamed, which set the dogs to barking again and  porch lights were turned on again and squirrels were scampering up trees again.  I turned around and found Bo, standing on the inside of the treshhold of our door, wagging his tail.

He happily trotted to the back door and waited for me to let him out.  I mumbled cuss words and threw my tired body into bed.

The next day, we adopted a new companion for Bo.  Sure... another dog.  That'll help me sleep better!