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June 28, 2007

Daisy's Disappearing Act

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Img_0228bDaisy gave me a big ol' fright last night.

I got home from dinner at Kay's house around 9PM.  All evening it had been thundering, lightening and pouring rain, so I made my way home in between thunderclaps.  Though I know Daisy doesn't like thunderstorms, my little senior citizen's hearing is not what it was, so I didn't think the storm would bother her like in the past.

I opened the door cautiously as I always do now---for weeks, she's taken to sleeping directly behind the front door---and I walked in the house.  Well, she wasn't behind the front door.  Maybe getting hit in the butt one too many times had convinced her sleeping there wasn't such a great idea. She also wasn't in the wing chair by the door, or in her bed by the steps.

As I put my stuff down, I called for her.  No little cocker spaniel came trotting out.  I wasn't too worried because I thought she was either in the corner of the dining room or in her bed in the den.

I emptied my pockets, took off my shoes and looked around. I checked the corner in the dining room, I walked through the kitchen, I checked her bed in the den and I looked in the bathroom.  No Daisy.   I was puzzled because my downstairs isn't that big and she's not that small.  Where was she?

The mail was on the counter so Rena---the woman I jokingly refer to as Daisy's personal assistant---had been there to walk her.  Rena once told me Daisy had given her a fright by tucking herself behind the wing chair in the living room.

I went back there to look.  No Daisy.  She's not upstairs I thought, because a baby gate at the steps prevented that, and she's not in the basement because a door prevented that.

My breath caught in my throat and I got scared.

"Daisy?" I yelled...nothing.

I clapped my hands, she usually heard that.  "Daisy?"


I went through all the rooms again and looked more closely.

When I got to the kitchen I hit the blinking message light on the phone thinking Rena might have needed to take her to the vet and couldn't reach me on my cell. As the message started to play I expected Rena's voice saying Daisy was hit by a car and she was in critical condition.

Nope. It was a message from a friend asking me for a reference.

"Daisy?"  More clapping.

Now I was starting to panic.  Someone broke in the house.  Someone broke in the house and took her.  She'd been dog-napped!  Or someone let her out.  She was out in the yard, in the dark, with the thunder and the lightening...and the raccoons!

"Daisy!!"  I grabbed for the phone, about to call Kay when I hear the faint tinkle of dog tags. 

"Daisy?"  I clapped again.  The tinkle got louder and out she came...from the bathroom!

I'd looked in the bathroom.  I'd walked into the bathroom.  But I hadn't looked against the wall behind the toilet in the bathroom, where there's a cool doggie escape from a muggy house.

I exhaled with relief and took her little head in my hands, chiding her.  She looked at me like an awakened Rip Van Winkle, realized what time it was and immediately demanded her dinner. 

As I poured out the kibble, I realized what Rena had already figured out.  Daisy still had a lot of tricks up her sleeve.


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