Advice from a small town girl

I was pretty sure that I’d be writing about Deutschesfest this week. You know, about how it couldn’t happen without me.

But aside from not being over-committed for a change and gaining 8 pounds in four days, I have nothing to say.

It’s done. The party’s over. I leave it to wiser heads than mine to debate the outcome.

No, I’m going to talk about something else this week.

Because while I was downtown in my dirndl, my dogs vanished.

I saw them early Sunday morning when I let them out. I went off to serve breakfast at the school. They were nowhere to be seen at eleven-thirty when we were picking bushels of tomatoes to send home with my sister and brother-in-law, but that’s not unusual.

What was unusual was that they weren’t there when I got home at about 5 o’clock Sunday. They still weren’t home when I woke up from my unintentional nap at 7. By the time it was dark, I was worried.

I climbed in the pickup and toured around Irby, looking for them. They’re pretty easy to spot, both being white.

No dogs.

I started out thinking, “what bad dogs!”

I ended up thinking, “what a bad human!”

It’s not like I don’t know they have a tendency to roam. In fact, I’ve been saying that I need to do something about that for months. I did purchase a kennel from the hardware store a couple (well, maybe several) months ago. It’s still leaning up against one of our many outbuildings, unassembled.

Oops.

I had to finally give up the search last night, hoping they’d be home this morning. I wish I could say I didn’t sleep well, because that would at least indicate some concern for my supposedly beloved dogs.

I slept like a log.

Monday morning at 6:30, still no dogs. Another drive around the country. No dogs.

By now, I’m assuming the worst, and believe me, I can assume:

They got hit by a train.

Someone shot them.

Someone picked them up. They don’t wear ID, in fact Samar doesn’t even have a collar at the moment.

Another oops.

I’d have to start calling the neighbors and the animal shelters, starting with Moses Lake.

They stumbled into a coyote den or nest of rattlesnakes.

Well.

I finally gave up the search and went home to get ready for work.

I needed coffee.

I didn’t hear or see the pickup drive in.

“Lise.”

I turned around and there is one of our not-so near neighbors with two dirty, embarrassed-looking dogs tied in the back.

First I thanked him.

He said they were in the stackyard, eating rabbits.

Then I apologized.

Then I thanked him.

And then I thanked him again.

I can’t begin to describe my relief, but the dogs aren’t the only ones looking embarrassed.

But here’s the kicker: One of my friends had told me early in the weekend about mistreatment of an animal. We were both agreed that it was very upsetting and yes, some people should not be allowed to have animals.

Unfortunately, I might just be one of them.