Tuesday

Of runaways and belated gifts.

Tonight I have thoughts on this dog and this man:

Rocko ran away yesterday.

He's home. But he did get out of the fenced in (5+ ft. fence) yard and wandered about aimlessly until a neighbor boy (thank you neighbor boy!!) found him.

We looked for him! He wasn't ... where we were. Apparently.

We prayed for his safe return as we prayed over our dinner. And he's home now.

I was strikingly sad and yet, I knew, if he was gone forever, it would be OK. I didn't LIKE the idea, but I had to get it straight in my mind that it would be OK.

You see, Rocko, when it comes to other dogs, is a fighter. NOT a lover. He doesn't like other dogs. And I'm OK with that becuase he LOVES my children and every other person he's met. But other dogs? Not at all.

We have a lot of dogs in the neighborhood that are not friendly and I thought there was very real possibility that they might kill him. Sad, right? But he'd likely start it. Like I said, he doesn't like other dogs.

But he's home now, no need to worry. He's not dead. He's not wandering around aimlessly anymore. In fact, he's in his kennel, on his stuffed bed, drifting off to sleep.

Ted on the other hand is preparing for bed and I should be doing the same. But before I do, a thought or two about him.

Ted is such a hard worker and I'm frightened that if he doesn't get a job soon he will build us out of livable space. He's been tearing apart pallets like there is no tomorrow. He's going to build mini picnic tables. He's also in the midst of my Mother's Day project - which I made him promise to not start until AFTER finals.

As he stud-finded (stud found?) and drilled away tonight, working on said project, I had to petition him to be done with nailing and drilling for the night. He was disappointed but it was nigh unto 7:00 and bedtime preparations were nearly underway. But he stopped.

And in his moment of dismay, I took joy. I took joy in the fact that I married such a hard worker. He really takes pride in being busy - being engaged in good things. And I like that. I love it.

And now to bed. Or to brush my teeth, take my thyroid medicine, pee, get into pajamas, move Gwenna out of my bed (where she fell asleep 30 minutes before her usual bed time), and crawl in, forcing myself to NOT think about surgery in the morning... since it's not really a big deal. Wish me a Benadryl-induced sort of sleep. The kind that makes you dream deep of hard working husbands and dogs content to not jump the fence.


*As a sidenote, no I did not take this picture for this post. I took this picture on Mother's Day after Ted toom pictures of me and the girls. So I took a picture of him and the boy. Rocko actaully sat right down at Ted's foot when Ted sat in the chair. See? He does like us. :)

2 comments:

Jewel said...

I hate that feeling, when your dog is gone, and you've looked for him, but you still can't find him. And our fence is 6 feet high...and our dog still figured out how to jump over it. Dumb dogs, to make us care so much.
By the time you read this, I'm sure you will be gallbladder-less. Good luck!! Here's hoping that everything goes smoothly and your hardworking husband is able to help you recuperate as quickly and easily as possible! :)

Mary Anne said...

Did you make Ted take a picture with Rocko for this post? That's too perfect if you already had it on hand. You are a blessed lady, for sure. Glad Rocko is home and glad Ted is handy! :)