Losing My Stuff…And the Dog

It had been such a nice weekend. Really, it had. Every year, my community does a big festival the first week of October. Friday night there is a cruise-in, Saturday is a parade, and Saturday and Sunday are a street fair. Since my mother is up for re-election this year, we attended most of it. While wearing “Vote for Nancy” shirts. With the kids handing out campaign stuff and asking passers-by to “Please vote for my Grandma.” Go ahead, say it. Awwwwww

We missed the parade, though, because Wyatt and Noah had their last soccer games on Saturday. Part of me is sad for them since they really loved playing. Then the part of me that doesn’t have to spend almost every evening at the soccer field throws a big fat party.

So, anyhow, the weekend. It was nice. It was productive. It was even spiritually enlightening. Overall, it was great.

Until approximately 5:45 Sunday evening.

That would be when Sean called me, as I was driving home from helping my mom one last little bit at the street fair, and said “Um, we have a little bit of an emergency here—are you almost home?”

As I wasn’t home to assess damage and daddy apparently gets a little more easily freaked out than I do, an ambulance was already on the way by the time I reached the house. Apparently, Eli had been on a bike with training wheels and Sean had asked Noah to push him for a bit. Sean thought Noah would know to be really gentle. Sean was wrong. One good shove later, blood was everywhere and Eli’s tooth was shoved way the heck towards the back of his mouth.

A visit to Children’s Hospital and an emergency office visit to my (cosmetic) dentist (that man is AWESOME), the poor kid had essentially been through hell having his tooth pushed back closer to where it belongs (but it isn’t wanting to stay there). By the time we got home and tried to put him to be, he was MAD. As in, punching anyone who got close to him. Except Noah. He got a good poke in the eye.

A little after midnight, when we were finally all settled into bed, it occurred to me that I didn’t know where our one dog, Thunder, was. He snuggles up to me in a thoroughly obnoxious way when the nights get chilly. And last night was definitely chilly. And he wasn’t there. And I realized he didn’t greet us with the other dogs when we got home from the hospital. And I couldn’t remember seeing him since, oh, around lunchtime.

We searched the house. We checked the backyard. We looked in both cars. We went into our garage and sheds.

We couldn’t find him anywhere.

I spent a restless night alternately being woken up by a hungry baby, a 19-month-old in pain, and worry. Worry about my son. Worry about the missing dog in the cold air. And COYOTES! Have I mentioned we have coyotes around here? And you know that Jessica Simpson just lost her dog to a coyote. And if it can happen to a celebrity, where does that leave us mere mortals and our mere mortal dogs???

When I left this morning to get Eli’s prescriptions filled, he was still missing. I even did a lap around the neighborhood on the way out to see if he was anywhere out in the open. Or squished on the road (horrible, I know, but I’m just being honest).

As I wondered the store, I got a phone call from Sean. He just wanted to let me know that his car stunk of nervous dog. But Thunder was safe and sound.  He had apparently gotten in there when Noah was getting a sucker out of the car yesterday and, even though he saw him jump in, neglected to make sure that Thunder got back OUT before closing the door. And the fact that Sean and I BOTH checked that stinkin’ car last night (Sean even opened the door!)??? Who the heck knows. I’d like to think the stupid dog learned his lesson but, well…Let’s just say that shih tzu’s aren’t the brightest breed in the kennel.

So here I am—sleep deprived and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Oh, and unable to cook a meal for my family since Sean was in the middle of swapping our old stove for a new one when all hell broke loose. So I currently have two stoves, but they are both in the garage. Which is, of course, incredibly useful.

And my poor little boy, by son with an incredible smile, still has a horribly swollen mouth and a Cletus tooth. And I still don’t know if it will go back into place, fall out, or have to be pulled. 😦 Thankfully, though, he is feeling much better. And what kid is going to complain about living off of ice cream, popsicles, pudding, and applesauce?

So, when it rains it pours. But at least my dog is home—alive and safe. So every cloud has its silver lining. He maybe a stinky, brain-dead silver lining, but I’ll take it.

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4 Comments

Filed under Daily Life, Kids, Parenting, Scary Bits of Life

4 responses to “Losing My Stuff…And the Dog

  1. Christina

    Oh my – your kid’s dental emergency makes my kid’s dental emergency look like no big thing. All the bleeding and everything would have panicked me too. Not sure I would have called an ambulance… but then, I probably err on the side of not panicking enough, in general. I hope the tooth goes back to it’s rightful place and stays there!

    And I’m glad you found your dog. It’s just so stressful and sad when our pets go missing.

  2. Yes, shihtzus aren’t the brightest of pups, but they are so loveable. I absolutely LOVE my Maggie. In fact, we are thinking about adding another little shihtzu. Let me know if you hear of any. 🙂

  3. Wow! When it rains, it pours! Hope the little guy is feeling better soon. Hope his tooth stays put and hope things quiet down for you soon! 🙂

  4. Nicole

    Ah… poor little Eli. He is such a cute kid. I hate to think of him in pain. 😦 Glad you found your dog, and I hope your little man feels better. And good luck to Grandma!!

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