The Dogs Escape

Today started off perfectly. When I woke up I could hear rain falling outside and by the time I finished the pot of coffee the morning rain had turned into full blown storms. I’d also set down the air conditioner in our house yesterday afternoon to sixty-two, so it was nice and chilly with no real reason to leave the house, so I threw on a pair of sweatpants and got bundled up under a blanket on the couch, while my wife got ready to go to work. Maybe I dozed off at some point or maybe she just resented me for having the day off, but I didn’t remember her telling me bye, but before I know it I was home alone. The dogs were being kind of annoying, their typical state of being when it’s storming outside. They kept pacing around nervously and walking over to the door like maybe if I just let them outside they could escape the loud booms of the thunder and flashes of lightning that was terrifying them in the apartment. Making a last ditch effort to calm them down by showing them how much worse life would be for them outside than it was in here with me, sitting on the couch watching a French league rugby match and trying to figure out how the scoring system works, I opened the door, just to give them a quick peek of the chaos, and that is how they managed to run out of the apartment.

I didn’t chase them, not at first anyway because I figured that once they got down to the bottom of the steps they would be able to feel the hard rain coming down and would therefore turn around and come rushing back up to shelter, but that is not what they did at all. They did realize that standing in the rain was not an ideal situation, so Jack took the lead and Mocha followed suit and they ran around the corner of my apartment building, which is the exact moment that I took off down the steps after them, realizing that if I didn’t get to the dogs before something happened to them, then not only would my happy day be over, but there’s a good chance my marriage would be nullified immediately. I rounded the corner, stepping hard into a puddle of muddy water which swished up over the side of my shoe and made itself at home somewhere in the bottom of my sock, a small price to pay for the safety of the dogs.

I looked right towards the road, because if I were a dog in this situation I would probably have a getaway driver waiting on the street, so I fully expected to see some squealing tires turning the corner onto the main road, with the dogs in tow, but that didn’t seem to be the case. I looked left toward the dumpster; maybe they’d gotten tired of dog food and were searching for scraps of something more to their liking, but it was doubtful that they’d even be able to jump that high, so I quickly let go of that notion. The dogs turned out to be hiding under the covering of where all the cars are parked. So it turns out they wanted to find shelter after all, so it’s unfortunate they didn’t think to turn around and run right back up the steps rather than have to go through the hard rain twice, but I’m just glad they are back safe in the apartment. Maybe I do like them a little bit after all.

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