This years holiday - wow. We drove out to Wright city to see a fireworks display.
Of course I brought the dog, because i hate ever leaving him at home. Greg didn't want to bring him, so consequently was really unhelpful and generally non-synergic. He stopped on the way to get a burrito from taco bell, which was the height of rudeness, because they were barbecuing at the gathering we were going to. So when we got there he, still not really speaking, planted himself in a camping chair, tied dayo to my chair, and then demanded i get him beers and burgers and whatever. Well the dog would drag camping chair for miles, so he couldn't stay like that. And the day become a desperate juggle of where to put the leash and how to keep the dogs from tangling together. As it got darker I never really got the hang of it.
This cougar lady did us in when Dayo and Frank(the other dog) got all tangled and she looks at me and says do you want me to unhook him. And I was like sure, he's tangled. But the time between the unhook and the first boom was very short, and the before i could get anything together the second boom sent dayo running. From the moment he ran i looked for him. Greg continued to sit there and watch the fireworks, saying that the dog would come back when it was over.
The land we were on seemed vast. As night set in I began to panic and search farther and farther. But nothing, no Dayo. I longed to see his reflective eyes pop out of grass, we searched til midnight. At which point, the only logically solution i could think of was to sleep in the grass with hopes that when I woke up my dog would be sleeping next to me. Greg said we had to leave. And made me ride all the way home. A full hour away from wherever dayo was.
My mind was filled with thoughts of him being hit by a car or attached by a fox, or a flock of ducks, or anything. I slept only because I took a xanax. At 7, I got up made a flyer to photocopy, shoved my bike in my car and drove back to Wright City. When I got there, i pulled into the subdivision, which turns out was really just a regular ol' subdivision with lots of houses that weren't all that far away from eachother. Strange how the night and panic can change your environment. When I pulled up to the drive way and got out of the car the first thing I saw Dayo, hanging out having a great morning in the country field. He saw me too and we ran together other. I cried so hard. That dog means more to me that anything in the world. I can pretty safely say that if something would have happened to him you would have never heard from me again, I would leave greg, leave my job, leave St Louis. Its ironic to me that in all of the photos we took, Dayo is tied up with his leash. And just a note, this was perhaps the most intense display of fireworks i've ever seen. I would have taken more photos but i was busy being devastated.
7 comments:
I hate the thought of dogs being confined at home. Penned up, captive...prisoners. I definitely support your efforts to get him out and about. However, dogs absolutely cannot handle fireworks. Poor Dayo.
This Greg guy sounds like a supremo douchebag. Typically when someone complains about their spouse the report is a little bias. However, in this case I'd say you're better off alone. If you'd have gotten lost in that field, how long do you think he would have waited around for you before he left?
Yes the fire works lesson is learned. I think myself and dayo have given up fireworks for life. However the good news is Dayo is now a man dog, much more independent and all the none wiser of being lost. I think he thought of it as more of vay ca. Ironically my pet name for greg is Douche Bag. This experience has made me think twice three four 10 millions times about having children, no matter how much said DP might want them. All I know at this point is that I am thankful my dog and consequently myself is alive after this event.
And i'm pretty sure if i was lost, someone, maybe not greg, would have called the cops, search and rescue!
Side note, these anonymous comments are killing me. Is there just one person reading these things or many!!! Who can know when everyone is annonymous!
Aw c'mon, we can't ALL have blogger accounts. I thought blogger recorded IP addresses of posters at least...
BTW douche bag has been my new favorite insult for the past few weeks. It's making a comeback in pop culture.
I have to take part cerdit in that.
For many years i have been declaring that all men inherently fall into one of the three catagories:
1. Douche Bag 2. Tool 3.Cheese Dick
Perhaps you single handedly brought douche bag back. That would suggest that your blog has thousands of readers. And what if we're all posting anonymously?!
I'm sorry to say that cheese dick hasn't caught on. Do cheese dicks get categorized into firmness of cheese? Say, a Velveta cheese dick for a guy that can't get it up? I think I would prefer a Gouda cheese dick myself.
My efforts of DP are by no means restricted to this blog.
And yes that's the best part about a Cheese Dick, you can pick the type of cheese.
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