Monday, January 17, 2011
It's a Dog's Life
Then, a funny thing happened. Joe set her outside so she could go to the bathroom and when he went back out, fifteen minutes later, Cindy Dog was gone. In spite of the fact that she couldn’t even walk five steps to her water bowl, the dog with the broken hip had smelled a rabbit and with her hunting pal, Sandy Dog, was off on a three-legged adventure.
I searched frantically all day for my dog, sure that she had fallen and couldn’t get up. I even went out into the dark with my flashlight and scanned all the fields around the house figuring the light would reflect off her eyes. I was right. It did. I found her curled up in her doghouse. I carried my naughty beagle back to the kitchen and placed her on her snug bed. She stared at me with sad eyes asI held the bowl to her tired little lips and worried about the damage a jaunt in the woods must have done to her unhealed hip.
The next day, when we set her out to go to the bathroom, Cindy disappeared again. And again, I found her at dark, curled in her dog house. The same thing happened each day for the next three days. The pitiful little dog in the kitchen, who spent her days curled in the corner making sorry suffering puppy eyes at us, would disappear as soon as she was set outside.