Okay, here’s another post for Andy. Last night we tried to figure out something that Andy could live with, so we put him on our enclosed porch (more like a sunroom), where there is a sliding glass door to our room. We closed the door, and we were silly for thinking that he would do well because he would be able to tell that we were close. Ugh! He scratched and scratched at the door, but we were determined to ignore him, even though I had to get up really early for work. Well, at about 2:00 am, Andrew got up to see if the dog needed to go to the bathroom. So he opened the back door to let the dog out, left it open, and came back inside to stay in the warmth. A few minutes later Andrew walked back outside to call Andy in, and did not see the dog. Poor Andrew, who is sick, by the way, doesn’t wake me up just yet and walks up and down our street with a teeny tiny flashlight calling the dog. He comes back inside at 2:30 and wakes me up, saying that Andy ran away. I totally thought that he was lying. Andy does not wander, and comes when he is called. Plus, he is practically glued to Andrew’s heels!
I have to admit, my first thought was “No more poopy bottoms on the couch!” But then I realized how awful that was, and how cold it was outside, and that I couldn’t live with myself if we had to tell Andrew’s grandfather that we lost his dog. So I get up, put on slippers and a bathrobe, and walk outside to see if I can see him. I call his name as loudly as I dare (the neighbors are sleeping, after all, it’s 2:30 AM!!). Well, I don’t see him, but just then Andrew walks out. I feel so badly, Andrew really does like this dog. Andrew calls the dog’s name again. Lo and behold! Here comes a small white dog hauling butt down the street!
After the initial sigh of relief, I say, “You horrible animal!!”
Sheesh! He’d better not run away tonight. I want to sleep.