"Be merciful, just as your Father also is merciful." Luke 6:36
This was my daily devotional calendar reading for yesterday. Bean has literally dug not one, but 3 holes in my living and dining room carpet. She and Hank together have destroyed three outdoor rugs and have begun chewing on my front door frame, not to mention scratching on my beautiful wooden front door. Hootie, yes Hootie, the little miracle dog, who Brayden saved from death's door and now resembles the Joker, has peed and pooped at least 76 times in my house in the last 5 days. Merciful. Be merciful. Does this mean use a sharp knife, as I end their lives? Asking for a friend.
So, I need to expand on the Hootie story. Why he is the "miracle dog. Two weeks ago tomorrow, I was headed to teach my youth group class. I decided to go to my favorite Mexican restaurant before class and just sit alone and eat. I'd had quite the week and most of my family was out of town. I physically dropped into the booth, feeling a little guilty about skipping church but super excited about the tacos and salsa I was about to consume. Just as my water, chips and salsa were delivered, my phone rang. Quincy was frantic. Hootie was gone. Now, back up in the day. Brayden (my hired kid) and I had literally just put up a new dog pen for her, THAT DAY. They don't have a fence built at their new place yet and she has no good place for her FOUR DOGS. Yes four. Yes they all together weigh what one of mine do but it's irrelevant. That's four times the poop. Four times the pee, albeit small but still gross. She has a newly remodeled farm house, new carpet, new NO DOGS ALLOWED inside because it's now their house that they are paying for and no longer the Cowboy and I's. Hmmmm. Funny how that works out isn't it? Anyway, I went by to check on her because not only is she in the middle of a remodel and moving, she's eight month's pregnant. I've been helping her clean, decorate, cook, etc. When I arrived, the make shift pen they had made for the dogs was blown over and I thought all the dogs were gone. I freaked completely out. Three dogs were hiding in their doghouse. Whew. But Hoot was gone. I ran inside and luckily, he just went in the doggy door and was hanging out. Hoot doesn't do storms or apparently, just strong winds. I decided that wasn't going to work and Brayden and I brought over one of our pens to loan them until their fence is complete.
Well, fast forward to my Mexican food. I immediately assumed they had escaped my new pen. I was mortified. My daughter was already completely stressed out over the move, the unpacking, the house STILL NOT BEING FINISHED, please Lord let me be able to forgive and get over my hate for all contractors and construction workers. Honestly. That is something I will never understand. If somebody pays you to do a job, why don't you #$%@^&% do it? Why don't you FINISH IT BEFORE YOU MOVE ON??? If I owned a construction company, this would be my NUMBER ONE RULE. I can't stand to leave ANYTHING undone. I don't know how these people sleep nights.
It has taken over 9 months to redo her bathroom. She wasn't pregnant when they started. She is due next month. They are still missing a drawer. They still don't have siding or trim. Seriously, I want to stab people. Merciful. Merciful. I'll do it quick.
Since she is also very pregnant, her ankles are swollen, her tummy is swollen, basically, she's just all swollen and she's tired. She does the health insurance at the office and it's November. Everything is due next month. EVERYTHING. She's stressed. I looked at my waitress while still holding my phone and said "I'm sorry. I have to go." She said "Please be careful" and was very understanding. Apparently, she recognized the terrified look on my face.
When I got there, I learned that they had let the dogs out to run. Um, wait, this incident was not caused by me or my pen? I left Mexican food for this? Mexican food that I really needed! You let him out? And you will be in charge of my grandson soon? Well the fact that it wasn't caused by me was a relief for sure but I still had to help her find Hoot. He was mine before he was hers. Long, long story. I think I've written about that before. She loves this dog. Even when he was mine, he loved her more. He's always kind of been hers.
We looked and looked. It gets so dark out here so fast this time of the year and he is literally the color of the leaves and ground so it was impossible. Their sweet friends Chloe and Dawson even came and helped them look. Dog people are crazy people. Just FYI. We are all nuts. Everyone looked...nothing. No Hoot. It was so cold that night that none of us slept. We were just sick for the little guy. The 10 lb. coward of a Yorkie who is scared of his own shadow was alone, in the dark, in the woods. He'd never survive if he wasn't already dead.
The next day, I went back to search some more. All the neighbors and even my sweet friend Jim from church was there. My mom came too. I asked Brayden to bring the four wheeler over and just look in the ditches for something we might have missed. We literally watched him drive by the house, turn around and come back with the dog. WHAT???? IS HE ALIVE? "Yeah!" he says nonchalantly in the way Brayden says everything. He was literally in the ditch across the road from the house. He was probably unconscious the night before so didn't make a sound and blended perfectly with the leaves. They'd walked passed him fifteen times and I'd certainly driven by that many. So had everyone else! But there he was, alive. Now was he okay? That's a different story. Quincy however was fully received. You could see the calm literally wash over her being. That was actually one joyful moment in what has been one hell of a year.
He looked a little like Kathryn Hepburn. Had some head tremors going. Then he began to walk sideways. And then in a circle. And then not at all. So we took him to the vet. He was internally fine but had some major head trauma. We have no idea what happened to the dog. He was probably hit by a car, or bumped into one. Maybe picked up by a bird and dropped. We will never know but we know he took a swift hard blow to the head. He now permanently has this strange grin on his face, much like the Joker from Batman. It's pretty creepy really. He used to resemble Barry Gibb with his luscious locks but now, bad plastic surgery Hootie. He also has this permanently surprised wide eye thing going. Emma continues to taunt him about it. Every time she says "Hey Hoot" she opens her eyes really big. Not funny, well, really funny but mean. I told her to knock it off or her kids are going to look that way someday. I have some friends that look that way now. Botox isn't really your friend folks.
The kids are gone to Texas for Thanksgiving so guess whose babysitting the creepy little sick dog? Oh yes, me. Am I glad he's alive? Of course I am. And he's getting a little better every day. In fact, he's no longer walking in circles and he's coming down the stairs and jumping up on the couch. For a such a weenie, he's remarkably durable. I'm actually pretty proud of the little fella. It might just toughen him up.
So, five more days and they will be home. I hope I can keep my sanity and at least a little carpet in that time.
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