A Run Away Story or A Day In The Life of A Busy Mom
While driving my youngest daughter to her soccer practice, I received a phone call. My daughter looked at the phone and said it was our vet. I told her to just let it ring because I figured I knew what they were calling about and that I wasn’t too happy with this vet anyway and that I was going to look around for a new one. The phone stopped ringing, and in a few minutes, we heard the message ding sound. The phone rang again, and it was the vet again. I sighed and told my daughter to give me the phone. I answered the phone, and the woman on the other end said that this was the vet’s office and that our dog, Holliday, had run away and was at a house near the next town. I said “What?” She said that a man called her and told her that Holliday was at his house and that the vet’s number was on his tag and that is how the vet’s office was able to contact us. I did not even realize that Holliday was gone! He rarely leaves the property, but we don’t always see him because he roams around our 35 acres or hangs out under one of our broken- down cars on the property. I did not see him when we left for soccer practice, but neither was I looking for him. I was so shocked. For Holliday to leave and go that far seemed incredible to me. I told the vet I was driving and could she please text me the contact information. She did, and I called up the gentlemen. He said, yes, the dog was there and had nipped at his mother when she came home. I asked him how Holliday had treated him, as Holliday does not like men, and he said that Holliday had also tried to be surly toward him when he came home, but that he made friends with Holliday and that everything was ok. I told him that Holliday had probably been trying to protect his own property from him. I asked him where Holliday was now, and he said that Holliday was on his front porch hanging out with his dogs. The gentlemen offered to drive Holliday home as he was going out anyway. We went over directions, and I discovered that he did not live near the next town really, but that his address had the name of the next town. Around here, the post office might give your address the city name of the closest city even though you are a several miles away from it. When we first moved here, the post office asked us which city we wanted for our address – the city to the south or the one to the north. I had chosen the one to the south as I figured that the post office to the south would be the one we would be most likely to drive past on our way home from errands and etc. Anyway, this gentleman’s address was for the city to the north, but he actually lives straight west of us behind the bluffs. So, Holliday did not travel as far as I thought. As it turns out, the gentleman is the nephew of another neighbor who also lives just over the bluff and with whom we have had other dog dealings. This uncle’s daughter owned a renegade black lab named Roscoe who, for a season, made his way over the bluffs quite frequently to visit Holliday. At first, we were enamored by Roscoe. But we soon discovered he was a pushy dog, literally, and a dog who would not go away. I took pity on him one cold night and let him stay in our garage, giving him supper that night and breakfast in the morning. That was his in, and thereafter, when Roscoe came trotting over the bluffs to visit, he would stay around for a while, and then he and Holliday would start off west toward the bluffs through our pasture to do who knows what and go who knows where. Then we would holler for Holliday to come back. He always did. We learned to put Holliday in the garage when we saw the black form of Roscoe trotting down from the bluffs toward our house. Occasionally, Roscoe brought a friend, then it was double trouble. We learned to keep Holliday in from these bad friends. After a while, Roscoe and company would get the hint that we were not letting Holliday out to play, and they would head back west again to do their mischief somewhere else. We had not seen Roscoe for many, many months, but when I heard that the gentleman who had Holliday was Roscoe’s owner’s nephew, the mystery of why Holliday would be across the bluffs made sense to me. But the gentleman said that he believed that Roscoe had passed some time ago. Well, perhaps it was his own dogs who were enticing Holliday? Who knew. The gentlemen said that Holliday had been there since morning. I was suspicious that perhaps he had been there all night, because, sometimes at night, I hear a dog barking in the distance and wondered if perhaps Holliday had wandered off toward that fellow dog sound in the dark. I apologized to the gentleman for any trouble caused by Holliday and thanked him for his trouble in getting Holliday back to us. I told him that I was not at home, but that my two sons would be there. We hung up, and I proceeded to call my eldest son, Tim, to tell him that a man was going to be coming to our property to drop off Holliday. Since none of us knew that Holliday was even gone, I felt that I should explain to Tim what would seem to be a very strange thing – here was a man whom Tim did not know, dropping off Holliday, whom Tim did not know was missing. I was also worried that the man would walk up to our house and ring the doorbell, because when Holliday hears the doorbell, no matter if he is in the house or outside, he goes crazy and has been known to bite the person ringing the doorbell even if the person who is ringing the doorbell is standing right next to him. Now, about a week ago, my eldest daughter had put her cell phone in the bottom of a bag she was using for church, and in that bag her water bottle was lying down sideways and leaked water all over everything, including her cell phone. We had tried all kinds of remedies to dry out the phone, including putting it in a container of rice, but to no avail. Since she needed a phone for her travels back and forth to work, she began to borrow her little sister’s phone. On the day we received the call regarding Holliday, I was, like I said, driving my daughter, who is this younger sister, to her soccer practice. Since during her soccer practice I needed to go the bank, I wanted her to have a phone, so she had borrowed her brother’s phone and left her ipod with him. Now her ipod can make and receive calls, but only via internet, which we have at the house, so that is why we took her brother’s phone and left her ipod with him. She had instructed him on how to use the phone before we left. So, when I tried to call him to let him know that a strange man was coming to drop off Holliday, I was frustrated that I couldn’t reach him. I tried and tried and tried, but to no avail. We were almost at soccer practice, and I was getting frantic because I knew that the gentlemen did not live that far away and would be at our house soon. My phone rang, and hoping it was my son, I was disappointed to see that it was not he, but a good friend of mine. Out of habit and stress, I picked up the call knowing that I really didn’t have time to talk to her. I hurriedly explained to her what was going on with Holliday. She knows Holliday and is a dog girl, so she completely understood. After I finished with my frantic story, I asked how she was doing, feeling bad, because I was wondering if she was calling me because of some trouble. She said that she was fine but that she was in the hospital with a friend who broke her wrist. I tried to focus on that situation enough to show that I cared, which I really did, but I had to get back to the Holliday problem. Jan was gracious and let me go. I phoned the gentlemen who was returning Holliday and was relieved that I had caught him just as he had gotten to our driveway. I told him to just let Holliday out and not to ring the doorbell because Holliday might bite him if he did. Whew. I think I covered all the bases. I dropped my daughter off at soccer and drove to the bank. On the way to the bank, my husband called me, and I told him I was on my way to the bank. He said he was calling me to see if I had remembered to go to the bank. Ha. I gave him a brief (unlike this account) rundown on Holliday. I was still pretty flustered when I arrived at the bank drive-through, and I know I said some things to the teller that made no sense at all, and when I thought about it later, I could almost see myself trying to explain to him about our crazy dog. Maybe he would have understood. After soccer, my daughter and I went grocery shopping. When we returned home, I discovered that Holliday had not stayed around after our neighbor had dropped him off, but had run away again, and that my son, indeed, never knew that Holliday had been gone in the first place, that Holliday had been brought back, and that he had run away again.