"Would y'all mind waiting just a couple weeks while I get organized?" I asked polity as they unloaded their cars. I've never been so blatantly ignored in my life. Brett also started bringing things over. Except these things are his belongings and he's been trying to sneak them into the house without me noticing. This is foolish on many accounts but mostly because I notice everything, dern it, and there are few inconspicuous way to hide a basketball in someone's bookshelf. Every week I find more "Brett things". Shoes stuffed under my bed, cookbooks added to my collection. This weekend I found a fancy juicer out in the garage.
But this post is about the biggest thing brought into my home that I do not own or take responsibility for. Her name is Grace and she moved in about a month ago and has yet to unpack her things or help around the house. I'll admit I had a hand in accepting Grace as the fourth woman of my home. I have this big yard you see, and Grace has spent all five years of her doggy life living in apartments and yard-less dwellings where she curls up on the sofa for eight hours each day while Papa Brett is off at work. Grace really loves the yard. She will stay out there all day, rain or shine, and I have to grab her by the collar to get her to come in for supper at the end of the day. She makes a full day for herself out in the yard, rotating her activities so that no one job wears out too quickly. She barks, digs, runs, looks up into trees, harasses a big lizard that lives under a woodpile that she can't quite get to, but most of all things, she sits silently and takes in the scene. Most times when I look out the window, she's gazing up at the sky or across the open space that is her backyard. Upon seeing how much she enjoyed being here, I would feel guilty anytime I thought about her sitting alone inside at Brett's house. So I started to go over there in the morning after all the guys had left for work and I'd fish the spare key out from it's hiding place and then I'd kidnap Grace for the day. Soon Grace started having sleepovers and about a month ago, Brett stopped taking her home all together.
This is of no real consequence to me. Grace is a good and mostly quiet dog and while Pippa runs in and out of the house all day, Grace is off alone in a corner somewhere, thinking big thoughts. So I let the girls out in the morning and I go about my routine. While they romp around sniffing and searching to find out what went on out here last night, I'm typically typing away at my computer. Occasionally I'll hear a gleeful bark or a sisterly skirmish and that's how I know all is well out there.
One morning the barking was particularly annoying. Usually I'll stick my head outside and yell at them and on this day I decided to ignore them, wondering if they barked just to get a rise out of me. An hour later when I finished my emails, I noticed that I hadn't heard any barking in quite some time. I was pleased that my ignorance plan worked and decided I should go outside and love on the pups. I stepped outside and they came as soon as I called them. I was proud of my good girls. I took but a few steps into the backyard when I noticed a police officer and a large truck in my driveway. The cop was fiddling with the gate latch and I got an immediate icky feeling. I slowly walked towards the driveway and the officer greeted in me in a tone that people use before they give you bad news. My mind went many places and I figured it must be really bad if my own family members hadn't called to tell me. Did all three of them implode? Am I an orphan?
"Are these your dogs?" he asked. Huh? Is this guy making small-talk before he takes the color out of my world?
"Yes."
"What are their names?" Oh my gosh. They're dead. My parents are dead and Ellen's been kidnapped. She's so small. Anyone could scoop her up.
"This is Pippa and that's Grace." I couldn't bring myself to politely smile and tell anecdotes about each one. I was processing my new reality.
"Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but they've been running in and out of this main road here and barking at people."
"These dogs?" I was very skeptical. They've been in the yard this whole time. I heard them barking up until about a half an hour....
"Yes Ma'am. We've been chasing them for about twenty minutes. We received multiple phones calls from people driving down the road. Your neighbors have been trying to catch them but they won't come up to anyone. The girl here," he said pointing to Grace, "she ate a little pork loin someone used to lure her out of the road but she ran off when we tried to grab her. They don't like strangers do they?"
I was so surprised by this news but also very amused. It really strikes you as funny to imagine that you're Mr. Magoo and the building is on fire behind you but you're still obliviously tapping away at your keyboard. His descriptions of the "suspects" is how I knew he was telling the truth. Pippa is so skittish she doesn't come up to anyone new and he said there was no hope in catching her. Grace is curious and friendly so I could perfectly imagine her snagging a piece of pork loin and then turning on her new friendship and darting away. I was feeling too guilty about the commotion to laugh so I only expressed my concern for how they got out and that multiple officers and neighbors were chasing my dogs around.
"We couldn't catch them to read their tags. They're both fast."
"Yes. They're suspicious dogs but they're both sweet girls if you call them by name."
"That one's a girl?" he said pointing at Pippa.
"Adopted sisters." I said. I told him to call Grace over and as soon as he did, her suspicion faded, her tail swooshed from side to side, and Grace sauntered over to the officer for love time. He threw his hands up in the air.
"That's so easy. All this time chasing her and I just needed to call her name."
"I'm really sorry about the trouble." I said, and then he told me to be more diligent because I live on a busy road. What? I live on a busy road? Thank you for that observation detective. He told me they were moments from calling the dog-catchers and sending them to Pup-Jail when my neighbor, David, lured them into my yard just moments before I'd stepped outside, calling for my sweet girls.
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