Disruption #2

Even before the late night (early morning) trauma of wretchedness there was another hitch in domestic tranquility.

I was surfing between "Crossing Jordan" and the SAG awards. The Spouse had gone to bed. Suddenly he comes in, pulling on clothes, to tell me that the front door had blown open and The Dog was gone. The Child was in hysterics, wanting to come with us, but it was late and cold and pouring rain. I left before The Spouse did, armed with a treat and the leash, and started along one of The Dog's flight paths, praying to St. Francis. It was so dark and The Dog so black, I didn't really know how we'd find him without divine intervention. I got about halfway up a hill and then turned back, thinking I'd check an alley he also likes to frequent. Suddenly I hear The Spouse call out that he had The Dog.

When I met The Spouse he was alone. "Where is he?" I asked, "You said you had him". "He's already home", came the reply. Turns out that for all his "on the road" tendancies, The Dog is not stupid. It was a horrible rainy night. Before The Spouse even left the house he heard the jangle of dog tags, went to the front door and whistled and The Dog came running home from the house across the street. In other words, it took him longer to find me than it did to find The Dog.