Sunday, 12 July 2009

Oh, dog of little brain...

I’m hoarse tonight. I’ve just done rather a lot of shouting.

It all started when I was cooking dinner and suddenly realised that Annie wasn’t in her usual spot by her bowl, staring at me with those big brown eyes, waiting for me to fill it. I asked the kids, but they hadn’t seen her since they’d come in for their showers. I asked my husband, but he hadn’t seen her since he’d come in a little later. I went outside and shouted, but no Annie.

By now I was getting worried, so I left Eldest in charge of finishing the dinner, grabbed my torch and set out to look for her. First stop, the road. I nervously shone the torch up and down, but couldn’t see her. That was a relief. So, back the other way to the barn and back along the creek, shouting my lungs out. By then, I was getting pretty frantic, so I headed up the hill to the shearing shed, still shouting. No luck there either. I came home close to tears.

Meanwhile, P had jumped into the 'ute' to go up and down the road and up the track at the top of the hill in the opposite direction. She loves to run up there...lots of old sheep bones. No sign of her. He came back to three very miserable children and an even more miserable wife. We ate dinner in total silence.

Did you maybe lock her in the workshop by accident? I asked after dinner. No, I haven’t been in the workshop answered P. In the fertiliser shed? I haven’t been in there either.

So I donned a big thick coat and set off again. A closer inspection of the ditches at the side of the road this time, a good look in the creek. No sound of any dog, just foxes, owls, frogs and wild cats. Then, just as I decided to head through the paddock, P came out again with another torch. A minute later there was a commotion and a very excited retriever shot out of the garden and jumped all over me.

‘Found her’, said a very sheepish husband.

He’d locked her in the woodshed when he brought wood in for the fire. The woodshed is right next to the back door!

I should have thought of it. He’s done it before to a cat.

But why didn’t the dopey dog bark?


Luc2 said...

Bark. That's so 20th century. give the animal a cell phone, for crying out loud (pun intended).

Kate said...

lol, Luc! Cell phones don't work around here though. I'll set up a laptop in the woodshed so she can email us next time.

Goldie said...

I've been meaning to comment to you about this post for days. I'm so glad Annie hadn't disappeared. I can just imagine how you felt. Like losing one of the children. It must have been awful. You would have felt like a stiff drink afterwards! Thank you also, Kate for your kind words about our Mackie. We miss him a lot.