German Chocolate À La ModeIt's been almost a week since my mom's birthday last Thursday (January 10th) and I meant to post a Happy Birthday Wish but was too busy to do so. The night before her birthday I drove down to Tucson, unbeknownst to my her, picked up a steamy, melty pizza pie from Oregano's (best.pizza.EVER) and showed up at their front door. My dad knew I was coming so he quietly let me in while my mom peeked through the front blinds, wondering who could be ringing the doorbell at 7 o'clock at night. I sicked Dookie on her while she was peeking and got the best surprised response that I hoped for! (yay! I love surprises!)
We spent the next morning having coffee and then went to the church to help serve lunch to the kiddies at school, which I immediately agreed to do only after making sure there were no hair nets or booties involved. (Only kidding. Kind of.) When we were finished, we went out for barbecue per my mom's request.
Thanks for lunch, Daddy!
After a little shopping we drove back home to relax, only to find that Dookie had burrowed under the gate and gotten out. My first reaction was to shake my head and say, "Oh, Dookie! Silly puppy!", followed by a reality check, during which the panic set in. She was only wearing her collar and had no single piece of identification on her. (Bad! Bad puppy owner!) We scoured the neighborhood and all I could think was the worst. Cute, potty trained (more or less) puppy with no tags... Someone will scoop her up and love her forever. Busy intersection... Unthinkable horror! Either way, I'd never see her again! Screw my slippers, Christmas ornaments, carpeting, dishwasher (don't ask) ... I wanted my baby back! A couple of hours of driving around streets and allies, and a few tearful phone calls to the Humane Society later, I spotted my parents down the street. They had pulled off to the side of the road to ask a couple of teenagers if they had seen her. My mom began waving her arms at me like she was signaling a rescue helicopter. Running as fast as my flip flopped feet could carry me, I landed on their front porch with mascara streaming down my face. Dookie had been running up and down the street and then managed to find the one house with three other pit bulls. She just sat on their front stoop until someone let her in so she could hang with her PB Homies. I could have peed myself, I was so relieved to see her hop out the door all puppy-ish and happy with no CLUE as to what she put her mama through. Kisses, kisses, hugs, tears and more kisses.
That evening, my dad boarded up the gates the best that he could, while Dookie no longer did her duty unattended by a human (even if the thermometer outside does read 20 degrees Farenheit). My mom opened her gifts, we sang Happy Birthday and my dad served up cake and ice cream. We kicked back to watched Leno and Conan, while Dookie made herself at home on her own personal doggie bed.
Love the Dook
We spent the next morning having coffee and then went to the church to help serve lunch to the kiddies at school, which I immediately agreed to do only after making sure there were no hair nets or booties involved. (Only kidding. Kind of.) When we were finished, we went out for barbecue per my mom's request.
Thanks for lunch, Daddy!After a little shopping we drove back home to relax, only to find that Dookie had burrowed under the gate and gotten out. My first reaction was to shake my head and say, "Oh, Dookie! Silly puppy!", followed by a reality check, during which the panic set in. She was only wearing her collar and had no single piece of identification on her. (Bad! Bad puppy owner!) We scoured the neighborhood and all I could think was the worst. Cute, potty trained (more or less) puppy with no tags... Someone will scoop her up and love her forever. Busy intersection... Unthinkable horror! Either way, I'd never see her again! Screw my slippers, Christmas ornaments, carpeting, dishwasher (don't ask) ... I wanted my baby back! A couple of hours of driving around streets and allies, and a few tearful phone calls to the Humane Society later, I spotted my parents down the street. They had pulled off to the side of the road to ask a couple of teenagers if they had seen her. My mom began waving her arms at me like she was signaling a rescue helicopter. Running as fast as my flip flopped feet could carry me, I landed on their front porch with mascara streaming down my face. Dookie had been running up and down the street and then managed to find the one house with three other pit bulls. She just sat on their front stoop until someone let her in so she could hang with her PB Homies. I could have peed myself, I was so relieved to see her hop out the door all puppy-ish and happy with no CLUE as to what she put her mama through. Kisses, kisses, hugs, tears and more kisses.
That evening, my dad boarded up the gates the best that he could, while Dookie no longer did her duty unattended by a human (even if the thermometer outside does read 20 degrees Farenheit). My mom opened her gifts, we sang Happy Birthday and my dad served up cake and ice cream. We kicked back to watched Leno and Conan, while Dookie made herself at home on her own personal doggie bed.
Love the DookI drove home the next afternoon so I could go to work. Needless to say, Dookie now has a brand new shiny ID tag and our next visit to the vet will include microchip placement!
