I am spending this weekend in Orange County visiting my parents. Of course, I brought Buggy with me. He enjoys being here, seeing the different people, and running about in my parents' large backyard.
Today, I sent him off in the yard in the morning for an hour, brought him in for an hour, and then sent him out again. It was windy, but he it didn't bother him a bit and he was having a grand old time.
Around 1pm my mom called me into the kitchen for lunch and we began to eat. Suddenly I stopped, and announced, "I better bring Buggy in."
I pulled open the sliding glass door to the backyard, and called out for Buggy. He didn't come bounding in, but that wasn't really much of a surprise. When Buggy is absorbed in something new and different, he'll usually savor one long last lingering moment before turning and sauntering over to me. So I called again, and then one more time using my "stern" voice. But nothing. So I slipped on some shoes, and checked around one side of the house... he wasn't there, and to the other side... and found something that I wasn't expecting to. The gate to the front yard and the street was idly bumping back and forth, ajar, apparently blown open by the Santa Ana winds.
I briefly explained to my parents what had happened and ran out to the front yard. Buggy was nowhere in sight.
My parents house sits on a ridge on the plateau of a long hill. Beyond the plateau, the street continues downhill in both directions. I guessed south, and set off running until I hit the end of the plateau. A neighbor was out watering his lawn, and responded to my hurried inquiry that he had not seen my dog, but that he would consider himself on the lookout.
I turned around and ran back towards the house, where I took a quick sweep, and then continued past and to the north. Buggy was not anywhere before the end of the plateau, and I continued without stopping onward down the hill. Here I found a group of five men working on a front yard. I asked them if they had seen a black Boston Terrier in the last hour. They assured me that they had been 'out front' all morning, and that no dog had gone past.
So off I ran, back up to the house, this time in hopes that someone had called my phone, having found Buggy and gotten my number off of his tags. But alas, no calls. So I took a moment to finally tie the laces on my shoes, picked up my keys, and went out to the street to where my car was parked. As I reached for the driver side door, I heard my mom scream out.
I looked to her, and then to where she had been looking.
Coming from the south, walking up the street, was my dad, carrying something in his arms. For some reason, I can't remember what I was and was not able to see as I ran towards him. But the bundle in my dad's arms was Buggy, perfectly fine, and only mildly curious as to why my dad was carrying him, or why he was being carried at all.
I pause here for an important Public Service Announcement: My dad is an awesome dad.
I took Buggy from my father's arms and carried him the rest of the way back to the house. Apparently he had only made it down that south hill a few hundred feet before deciding that it was too hot and lying down in the comfortable shade of a large tree on an unknowning and unknown neighbor's lawn.
Thank you sun. Thank you Boston Terrier shortened breathing passages. Thank you large tree. Thank you unknown neighbor.
As I write this, Buggy lies fast asleep at my feet, possibly dreaming of his big and yet small adventure. But I sit here wondering at something else.
This afternoon, after all of the hubbub was over, I saw something that I have never seen before. I saw my mother reach down and pet Buggy lovingly. Now don't get me wrong, my mom has love for Buggy as she understands that he is important to me. But the deeper truth is that the concept of dogs as pets is foreign to her and she has struggled to be comfortable around Buggy, especially physically, for the entire two and a half years that I have had him as a part of my life. In another half-an-hour, I found my dad and my mom and Buggy happily playing tug-of-war and fetch together in the living room.
I guess what they say is true... sometimes it takes nearly losing something to truly appreciate it.
Sending hugs to all of your animals and to everybody that means something to you,
K & the Love Bug.
