This morning, just as I was about to hit the snooze button at 8:00am, Howard sleepily reminded me that we were supposed to be at work by 8:30 to meet our last freight truck of the season (the ice road is being blown up tomorrow night…read a few more blogs earlier if you’re wondering what I’m talking about). Realizing, I only had a half hour to get ready, I immediately jumped out of bed and into the shower. Howard tried to help by walking the dog (well, more like, stand on the front porch and watch him do his business) but as the half hour approached, he realized Lucky had vanished and the freight truck wouldn’t wait. Lucky is stubborn for Howard because he knows he’s a spoiled little shit, and that he can milk this time to spend a few extra minutes outside. I shooed him out the door and told him I’d walk to work and to go ahead and take the truck.
I poked my head out the door and yelled for Lucky several times. I try not to yell too loud because this village is neatly packed together and our neighbor’s house is barely 100 feet away. There’s also nothing to absorb the sound, so every shout is echoed. Anyway. I must have yelled for him for ten minutes. My yelling began to consist of “LUCKY GET YOUR ASS IN THE HOUSE NOW!” I began to get worried when I didn’t see him or hear his collar jingling.
I came back into the house, put my shoes on and proceeded to walk outside and look for him. There I was, wet, frozen hair, tennis shoes with no socks and I’m screaming and cussing at my dog. My anger turning into worry that maybe he’s fallen into a deep snow drift and can’t get out. While I myself am sinking knee deep in some areas. I am frantic by the time I round the neighbor’s house and look back at the house…to see my damn dog sitting on the front porch waiting for someone to open the door and let him back in the house. My worry turned back into anger quickly. Lucky merely looked at me as if to say…”What?..you didn’t think I was coming back or something?”