Oh, Mondays! The day when half of you is still stuck in the weekend. When you’re really only half focused at work and your boss doesn’t care, because he’s feeling the same way too.
Well, while you’re getting yourself situated, and maybe pouring that second cup of coffee, let me tell you about what happened over my weekend. This is the story of all stories!
It all started when my husband went to let the dog in. Usually, our little miniature Schnauzer is chomping at the bit to get inside, but this particular time he didn’t come crashing through the door once it opened. He didn’t come when we called him either. My husband looked at me sort of funny, (I imagine he was thinking about yesterday when our dog, Titus, got into the chocolate chips. I could just hear his thoughts as he looked at me. Maybe the chocolate killed him.
Grabbing a flashlight my husband cautiously stepped outside. He looked all around the sad excuse we call our backyard, but no Titus. I got involved at that point, because we all know women are better lookers than men… I looked around, in the back and in the front, calling his name, but nothing happened. No bark, no whimper, no Titus.
So we got in the car and for the next 45 minutes we went searching for our little lost puppy. Driving up and down each street, winding through near by stores and parking lots, calling his name and shining a flashlight in the dark corners all we found were three cats and two kids making out in their car. (We didn’t really find two kids making out, but it makes the story sound better.)
Now, not being a pet “lover” I wasn’t too concerned. My rational thought was: He’ll show up sooner or later… let’s just wait till tomorrow and see if he comes back. But my husband had other plans.
“Let’s make signs.”
See, my husband is usually the calm, rational one, completely in control (he would even say void of) emotion. Where I tend to be the dramatic. Emotion is my middle name. This time however, our usual roles were reversed.
He paced the floor while I made the sign, calling on my mother-in-law for a good picture of Titus. Why does she have the best picture of Titus? Because she’s a dog lover. Which should’ve been my first clue to NOT tell her that Titus was missing. When we called her back to ask if we could come print the flyers at her house, it was evident she had been crying. Now, here’s where a funny comparison comes in: I called MY mother to tell her our little dog was gone and what does she do? NOTHING. She didn’t even answer. Didn’t even call me back!
We picked up the flyers and they looked pretty good:
So we go to hang them up, using one of those handy dandy staple guns. We got the first one up, drove until we saw another light post and went to hang the second one. But before we could get the second sign hung we saw this:
Does anything about this sign strike you as odd?
“That’s our dog! That’s our dog!” This excited exclamation came from… me. Back to our usual behaviors.
My husband called the number and a sweet old man answered. We gave a description of Titus and confirmed that he had found him just that afternoon. We drove to his house, just a few blocks away, and picked up our little puppy. The kindness of a stranger saved the day and my husband was back to his normal, composed self, with a little smile tugging at the corners.