“Ehhhh…what?” I asked, trying to figure out 3 questions: what time was it, where was I, and what was going on? I figured out the first two questions pretty quickly. It was 6:53. I was in my bed.
“I thought we brought them inside to sleep last night,” I said.
“We did. I took them outside a couple hours ago to use the bathroom.”
I got up.
“Their collars are in the yard. I’m going to look for them,” he said. He left.
My husband was gone. The baby was still asleep, so I decided to look for clues. Based on what I knew, I started to worry. First thought: they’ve been stolen. Someone saw these 100+ pound majestic creatures and couldn’t resist finding out how much kibble they could eat.
Or, since it’s duck season, someone thought they would be the perfect companions and decided to grab them and ditch their collars in the yard.
I went outside to investigate and I knew by looking at the hole in the middle of our fence, I was wrong. They weren’t stolen. They ate through the fence and escaped. This kind of mania was fueled by one thing: Rick’s secret.
You see, we’ve been dealing with a problem for a couple years now: Rick has TSS. Also known as Thunder Shock Syndrome (I made that up…clever?). He’s terrified of thunder. Last time we had a storm, we put the dogs in kennels underneath the carport to help them feel safe. It didn’t work. Rick ate his way through his kennel from the inside. Then, he managed to squeeze his huge body through the hole he created. We found him underneath Jared’s truck in the driveway. And, we found a huge, fury filled fur ball under our carport.
Back to this morn. After realizing that the dogs weren’t stolen by a duck hunting Cruella D’Ville, I called my husband. “Any update?” I asked.
“I just found Pink about a half a mile from the house.”
I started to cry. I was so relieved. Things have been kind of crazy lately, and I really didn’t want to add losing my dogs to the list.
“Rick must be close,” I said. The puppies always travel in a pack.
But, he wasn’t. Jared drove every street in our subdivision, and there was no sign of Ricky. Ten minutes later, Jared called. “I’m coming back to drop Pink off.”
I let Pink inside when he got back. I could tell my husband was worried about Rick.
“I know it’s early, but I’m going to the animal shelter,” said as he walked out of the door.
Twenty minutes later, I called him. “Any luck?” I asked.
“No,” he said, “I’ve been everywhere.”
I started to cry. Pink and Rick are so close, I seriously doubt they can survive alone. And I couldn’t imagine not having Rick. Those crazy puppies are such a big part of our life. We’ve had them practically our whole marriage. It would be devastating to lose them.
“Go check outside again,” my husband said. “Maybe you will see him down the road.”
I slid on Jared’s boots and waddled to the back door. I opened it and looked down. A giant, wet, crazy dog licked my leg. “He’s here!” I screamed in the phone. “This crazy ass dog came home!”
My husband sighed. “I didn’t know where else to look, Kels,” he said.
“Well the crazy asses are back! Please come home,” I said.
I haven’t been this relieved in a loooooooong time. Even though, I’m pretty sure Rick just came back to get some breakfast, at least he came home. We are going to make a Thunder Survival Plan for next time if you have any tips.
Stay warm! Hope you are doing well!