We were a pretty sad crew at our house this weekend. The sudden loss of our beloved Dexter has left a gaping hole in the hierarchy of our pack and a throbbing ache in my and my husband’s hearts.
So Sunday I was attempting to take a nap in my bedroom when my husband Phil announced that he was going to take Coral, our greyhound, for a walk. He said he thought they both needed to get out. Coral has seemed lethargic since Dexter left, and we are a little concerned about her adjustment since she’s never spent a single day of her life without the company of another greyhound until this week.
He told me Stormy, our 2-year-old pit bull, was in the backyard.
A few minutes later he came back to tell me he was taking Stormy for a walk, too, since Stormy almost jumped over our 4-foot fence when he saw Phil walking Coral down the street.
About 10 minutes later he comes back to the house, both dogs in tow, with his shorts hanging around his hips. Seems that during their walk, Phil dropped one of the leashes. When he bent down to pick it up, the button popped on his favorite pair of old shorts.
Mr. Pants-On-the-Ground had to walk back through the neighborhood, one hand holding two dog leashes and one hand holding up his shorts.
He changed into another pair of shorts and decided to take just Coral out again. He left Stormy with me in our bedroom.
Stormy started to cry and whine. I tried to calm him down, but he was having none of it. Minutes later, Phil returned with Coral. He said he didn’t think she wanted to walk anymore so he would take Stormy and leave Coral with me.
Except that after he left with Stormy and closed the bedroom door, Coral LOST HER DOGGY MIND.
She cried. She whined. She paced the floor. I got her to jump up on the bed with me, but she was panting, drooling and licking her lips. All the petting and soothing in the world would not calm her. I called Phil’s cell phone to ask him to come back home. He’d left his phone at home.
So much for a Sunday nap.
I took Coral downstairs and she raced to the hallway window, her best vantage point to the street, desperately seeking Phil and Stormy. She continued to cry and run back and forth, looking out every window that faces our cul-de-sac.
I offered her a cookie. She spit it out.
So, dressed in the most ratty shorts I own and a faded, grease-stained tank top, I slipped on a pair of flip-flops, put a leash on Coral and ventured out in the neighborhood in search of my husband and our other dog.
I waved to our all of our neighbors, and they surely noticed how stunning I looked, must have seen my nearly pants-less husband earlier and probably speculated about all the weird dog-walking combinations coming from the Nelson house.
Well, we like to give ‘em something to talk about.
After meandering through our seemingly uphill-in-every-direction ‘hood, I finally I found Phil. Coral and Stormy were reunited and order was restored.
So here are all the lessons learned from Sunday afternoon:
- We are all going through an adjustment period and we have to be patient with each other.
- We need to spend as much time as we can with our remaining pets until things settle down.
- We cannot separate these two pooches right now.
- I need to sew a new button on Phil’s favorite shorts.
- I need to buy him new underwear in case that button falls off and he ends up flashing the neighborhood again.
- I need to invest in better around-the-house clothes.