I am posting this to tell D. Sidhe how her lovely box of cranes was a dove of hope on what has to have been one of the worst days of my life. For the rest of you, here’s a recap of the horrible 24-hour period in question.
On Friday, I took TorgoKitten to the vet, who gave him a large dose of a sulfa medicine to kill the internal parasites that might or might not be causing his diarrhea – in any case, the antibiotic did cause the worst bout of diarrhea yet. T-Kit ran from room to room, leaving a trail of, um, filth, throughout the house. I gave him a bath (which is not fun, trust me), and then spot cleaned, used the enzyme cleaner to get out any remaining odor, then got out the Hoover Steam cleaner and cleaned the carpet in every room to make sure the rug was clean and fresh. This took about 3 hours.
And then he had another attack . . .
Anyway, after I got that cleaned up, I was beat, but the dogs were bouncing off the walls, and so I decided to take them for a walk before I crashed. So, we went for a walk in the freezing rain, and they were happy. I left them in the backyard to run around a bit more while I threw a load of laundry in the washer, so I could rest in good conscience. However, I had just got downstairs when I heard one of the dogs yelp loudly in pain. I ran in the backyard, and noticed with dread that the gate was open (apparently ice had kept the latch from closing securely even though it looked like it shut), and both dogs were missing. Just then, one of my neighbors pulled in my driveway and told me that he had just hit Flossie when she ran from my yard right in front of his car. I went the direction he told me she went, calling her name as I ran, but neither saw nor heard her. After about ten minutes I came back to get a flashlight and a coat, and just then the phone rang – it was somebody who had found Flossie! Apparently the lady heard scratching on her door, and when she opened it, there was a scared and wet Flossie! She found my phone number on Flossie’s tag.
The lady told me where she lived (it was the opposite direction from where I was looking), and I hurried there and picked her up. She was shaking, and had tire marks on her face and head, and some scrapes on her bottom, but otherwise looked unhurt. I took her home, wrapped her in a blanket, and then went out to look for Yodie. After covering about a mile on foot with no results, I went home to get my car. When I got inside, I realized that Flossie was in shock – her shivering was much worse, she was almost non-responsive to me, and just didn’t look good. I wanted to believe that none of this was real, because it didn’t seem right that everything could change in just a matter of seconds.
Anyway, I called my family for help. As soon as I told them what had happened, they were on their way to assist me.
My mother, my sister, my brother, and my brother’s dog looked for Yodie, while I held Flossie and waited for the vet to call me back. During that time I was worried that I was going to lose Flossie, because she was just so out of it. After about 30 minutes, I called another veterinary clinic – that vet was very helpful, asked me questions, and then told me that Flossie didn’t have a concussion, and was going to be okay. My own vet called me about ten minutes later, asked me even more questions, but gave the same diagnosis.
Flossie had come out of shock by then, and just had a headache and some bruises. That was like a miracle! But Yodie was still lost. My family had covered a lot of ground, but didn’t see hide nor hair of him. (My mother took a spotlight and looked in ditches and under cars for dog carcasses.)
Anyway, we all looked for him for another hour, but didn’t find him. We told each other that he was safe in somebody’s house, but Yodie is mistrustful of strangers, so I didn’t really believe it. I couldn’t stand the idea of him being out alone and scared on such a cold night, so I went out looking several more times during the night. I didn’t sleep in hopes that he would show up on the doorstep, and bark for admittance. (But he didn’t.)
Saturday morning, as soon as it was light, I went out looking some more. After I had been everywhere I could think of, I went home and starting making lost dog posters and flyers. I called Animal Control, all the vets’ offices, and the newspaper, which said that a Lost and Found ad wouldn’t appear until Tuesday’s paper. Anyway, I was sick from over-exertion, lack of sleep, and worry — and then the doorbell rang. It was the mail lady, with a package for me — a large box filled with dozens of colorful, beautiful origami swans. I cried. But my heart lifted, and I knew that somehow things were going to be okay.
About 20 minutes later, a neighbor named Joe called and asked me if I owned a Pomeranian. It seems that he saw Yodie running on the busy street in front of his house (which is about 2 blocks from where I live), dodging cars and barely missing getting hit, Joe was concerned, and followed Yodie as he frantically for about a half a mile, rendering his tired enough to be picked up. Joe took him home, and not seeing a tag (apparently Yodie’s collar came off some time during his adventure), kept him for the night. The next day he called various people he knew owned dogs, and finally the people across the street from me said that the description sounded liked Yodie. I raced over to Joe’s, where Yodie covered my face in kisses, but didn’t seem to be otherwise effected by his experience.
Anyway, Flossie is fine now, and other a tendency to bark at everything (even more than he did before), Yodie is fine too. I am still feeling sore and fatigued, though, so I guess it affected me more than it did them.
I spoiled the dogs rotten, even though they are brats who would undoubtedly run away again if they got the chance, but I bot a padlock for the gate so they can never get the chance.
So, in conclusion, thanks, D. Sidhe — I really believe that those cranes brought me peace and good luck, and I will always remember your kindness.
I really only count them as I dump them out of the box I fold them into at my desk, into the big storage boxes. It’s all very imprecise, and I’m widely regarded as a weirdo by the serious origami people, and obsessed by everyone else. Except the cats, who are delighted with all the toys.
I am so glad you got your doggies back
Left by Lisa on October 25th, 2006