Amy Update

I'd planned on blogging about writing. POV to be specific. But that can wait. Amy added a new trick to her repertoire. Opening the fence gate. John had assured me it was secure. Right. One day last week she romped in the yard while I put away groceries. I checked on her several times, then went back to my chores. When I finished I went out to play with her, and there was no Amy. No bouncing pup coming when I called. Nothing but a quiet back yard. I went to the side of the house and saw the gate wide open and had a minor heart attack. After running to the house for her leash, I took off. When I say running, I mean balls-to-the-wall, full-out running. The kind you can only do when in a panic.

People are amazing. Most of the time they really piss me off, but on this day I loved them. Strangers stopped what they were doing and helped look for Amy. One lady left her own garage sale to drive me around. No kidding. I searched her favorite places and waded through very tall weeds. I ran the walking path twice. Cars on a road near us seemed to be in a race, so I stood in the street and waved my hands and yelled, "Slow down! A puppy is loose!" Yes, if you heard about a lunatic doing that, it was me.

Over an hour later I was a true mess. I'd run at least two miles and it was a hot, hot day. My hands wouldn't stop shaking and my legs felt like they'd give out any second. I was drenched in sweat and my top was soaked. I decided to go home and check for messages in case someone had Amy and called. Our names and number are on her collar tag. When I got here the neighbor boys ran to meet me. They'd found her and put her in the back yard and made sure the gate was closed tight. Naturally I burst into tears and hugged those kids so much I'm pretty sure they'll never come near me again. Poor things. Hopefully none of their peers saw.

In the meantime, while I was dashing on a path and waving my arms at cars on the street etc, Amy had opened the back door to the house. When my husband got home she was inside, in air conditioned comfort, the back door was wide open, and I was nowhere to be found. He saw my purse and knew I'd never go anywhere without it. My car was in the garage. Now he was worried about me! Our relief when we all saw each other again can't be described. I had another crying jag. By the way, I'm not a crier.

It is amazing what one little dog can do. Such joy. Such worry. Such love. Such worry. The fence gate now has more locks than a New York City apartment. Even Amy can't undo all of them.

Okay, now that's off my chest. My next blog will be a POV rant. Why do so many people think 'someone else' will fix their mistakes? Their laziness? Writing is tough. Deal with it or quit.