Wednesday, May 13, 2009

terrified by a terrier

On the way back from our run tonight, I saw graffiti on the wall down the street from where I live. I volunteer for the City of San Jose's Anti Graffiti program because this crap makes me furious. I ran home, put Moxie in the side yard, went out through the garage to get my solvent and gloves, etc to clean that wall.

I heard Moxie's yelp of indignation for being left behind as I trotted down the street. I was furiously scrubbing the wall and taking my time looking at the scribbles on the sign posts too as I made my way back. As I neared my house I noticed in horror that the front gate. Was. Wide. Open.

I started screaming Moxie Moxie Moxie running around the block I live and I could feel my eyes peel open as I tried to see better in the dusk.

I saw nothing. I'm running and screaming, and a Toyota with two young ladies in it pull over to ask me if I was missing a white dog, and I screamed YES and they told me where they saw her. I started running in that direction screaming Moxie Moxie Moxie, the toyota went in the same direction past me, to see if she was further down. I ran down that street and another and another then circled home in a panic. Ten minutes later, another car with another lady asked me if I was looking for a white dog, and I said YES, she said she saw it run into a house, I asked what house? and she said that one on the corner. And she pointed to my house. MY HOUSE. I ran home and there Moxie was inside, unable to open the door that closed behind her when she ran in. I am euphoric to say the least.

I ran back out front, carefully closing the gate even though Moxie was in the house, to find those two nice gals that were still scoping the street looking for my dog. I ran down to them and thanked them so profusely I think I embarrassed them. I told them if they ever need anything AN Y THING that I'm the one on the corner with the big flag pole in the yard. How damn nice. How nice. I'm going to go fall completely to little tiny pieces.

After getting home, I notice I have paint all over me and my Corvette tee shirt. I hope I didn't get it on that gal I hugged through her car window.

And as an aside, my voice is trashed. I sound like Marlo Thomas, and if you don't know who she is you're too damn young. So here's my Marlo Thomas voice and I have to speak in front of 50-60 people tomorrow morning. Like I care. My damn dog is home.
Yay.
Splat.

5 comments:

Captain said...

Nanners sez WOOF.

Sharondippity said...

Mox sez thanks.

Anonymous said...

Piper sez MoXIe U R nOT SupPoSED to DO ThAT iT ScaREs ThE HUmAnS aNd U DOn't GeT TrEAtS aS thEY R 2 TrAumATIzed. MoXIe STAY. . . STAy!

Anonymous said...

Mox is home and you can relax - big sigh of relief

Mark said...

Probably one of the fastest sinking feelings you can have. Glad the pooch had enough sense to head back home. arf

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