Sometimes Life is like a Sitcom

My dog decided to give me a small heart attack today. We're temporarily living in a fairly rural area right now. We live in a  neighborhood with cul-de-sacs and lots of houses, but it sits hard against acres and acres of woods. To add to this there are many loopy streets, and virtually no street lights. It can be confusing and dark.

I get up really early and let Harry, our dog, out to do his business. I usually close the door for a minute or two and he comes running in to get his breakfast as soon as I open it. Today is a Friday and I don't work so my wife did this routine before she left this morning. He was acting like he need to pee when I got up so I let him out. When I opened the door a few minutes later he didn't come running. In fact I called him and he didn't come running. A little odd, but not totally strange. I left the door open for a few more minutes and still no Harry.

 Now I start to get a little worried. I'm wearing sweats and I throw on a coat, no shirt, put on some sandals and grab a flashlight. I walk down the driveway and stand on the corner and call him; still no dog. Then I walk to one of the spots I take him for his walk which is a little woody area with a wooden school bus shelter. I stand there and call him and still nothing. Meanwhile I can hear the occasional car on the outer streets and visions of Harry getting hit come to mind. After walking in several directions I still have no sign of him and I'm getting really scared. It's dark, it's foggy, the streets are confusing and there's precedent for Harry wandering off in the past.

Several years ago, in the neighborhood we usually live in we left the front door open and Harry wandered off. Once we realized this, I went out looking for him. And just like one of those old Benji movies I met a string of people who had "just seen him going that direction." There was the gardening guy, the older couple, the meter reader and finally, 6 blocks later, a mom who smiled at me and told me that her kids had found him and were trying to find his home. Sure enough a block or two later I saw two little kids walking Harry with a makeshift rope leash. They walked up like out of a movie and said "hey mister. Is Harry your dog". They handed him over and cooed over him just like the last seen of a Disney movie . Byyyeee Harrrry!

So now I get into a car and just like an old episode of the Brady Bunch, I'm driving around at 5 miles an hour and yelling his name. After doing that for 10 minutes I finally give up and decide I'm going to call my wife. I'm standing on the porch and I give one last call which I'm sure won't lead to anything but I hear a distant jingle like maybe a dog collar and I yell again, the jingle gets louder and on my third call I see a blur of activity from the bushes down the street. It's Harry!!!!! He comes running in the house  and I'm so relieved I give him a second breakfast. I'm standing there with tears in my eyes telling him I'm glad he's okay and in his usually calm detached manner he stares at me like I'm nuts.