Last week the phone rang at 8:30 am. I was in the shower and getting ready for work. I had just shampooed my hair and had moved onto the conditioner when it rang. I ignored it.
See, now when people call in the morning it's Bimmer Man saying that his mom needs me to let the dogs out or it's his mom asking to let her dogs out. No biggie... I'd just finish up in the shower and call her when I was done to confirm that I would let the dogs out.
Or it would be my mom. And she would call to say, "Pattymctatty, the roads are bad, don't go into work today." And then we'd have a 20 minute conversation.
But then I was rinsing out the conditioner and then phone rang again.
Uh, oh.
Two phone calls in a row doesn't sound very good.
CRAP. I sort of started panicking, I hadn't even washed my face, and I knew that mascara would probably be running down my face. Crap. Crap. Crap. White towels and mascara don't mix. Crap.
I got out of the shower and ran to the phone and looked. Uh, oh.
It was Shirley, the next door neighbor. Now, Shirley only calls for about two things: she's going out of town and needs me to water plants OR she was wondering something else.
So not good.
I missed the call and called her right back.
"Hi, Shirley!"
"Pattymctatty, did you know that Rusty got out of the fence?"
What? Rusty did what? OMG. I looked around the upstairs. No Rusty.
"Um," I started. "I did not know that, I thought I let him inside. I guess he must've let himself out."
Oh, crap. Now I would need to rig something up so he wouldn't let himself out. Ugh. This was not going to be a good afternoon AND I was just wearing a towel. I was going to have to go outside JUST WEARING A TOWEL TO GET MY DOG BACK.
FUCK.
"I just wanted to let you know that I put Rusty back in your yard," Shirley said.
So I went downstairs to look into the backyard. The dog in my yard was not Rusty.
"Hey, Shirley?"
"Yes?"
"So, um, that's not Rusty that's outside."
And my panic started to recede just a bit. I looked into the living room. Rusty was in his dog bed, sleeping soundly with his mouth on a chew toy.
So back to the dog in the backyard...
Saba. The dog behind us that can jump 6 foot fences. Who happens to jump into our yard at least twice a week. Sometimes twice a day.
"Rusty is on his dog bed, Shirley," I said. "I bet that's Saba."
"I thought it was a little strange," Shirley started laughing. "I thought Rusty was a little darker but you never know!"
2 comments:
What a delightful neighbor. CRAZY TOWN!
Great cry little wool.
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