|Posted by nwkasgoodland on November 26, 2011 at 10:40 AM|
2:15 am Sunday morning, and I rolled out of bed to powder my nose (or something like that). This is night #2 with Mr. Miles being on the loose in the house so I tiptoed through the house looking for that dog. Twice I completely toured the inside of our house. No Miles. I found my eyeglasses and went through the house again, disturbing all the kitties, but finding no dog. You wouldn't think it would be THAT hard to find a 60-pound black dog. And you wouldn't think a hunnerd-something-pound woman making the rounds 4 times through the house wouldn't stir up even a soundly sleeping dog. This was serious business, so I got the trusty flashlight from the kitchen and made a thorough loop through the house, ending my tour upstairs in the bedroom where we are currently sleeping in the waterbed. I thought the best thing to do was to wake Mr. Ford and tell him the bad news that someone had stolen our watchdog. Something caught my eye in the small space between the bookcase headboard and the wall. Even the flash from my not-too-bright flashlight didn't disturb that trusty watchdog who had somehow managed to stuff himself back into that tiny space where practically nobody could ever find him. We may need a crowbar to pry him out tomorrow morning, but now that my heart has slowed down to a steady purr I believe I'll tiptoe back into the bedroom and join the rest of the sleeping clan. I'll try not to wake the watchdog nor the man of the house Reporting from the land of believe it or not, this is Elaine signing off for now.