my dog is smart
For those of you who don't know, I am ever-so-slightly obsessive compulsive. Not to the point where I am constantly counting how many steps I take or where I have my sock drawer folded and organized by size, then color. But I will obsess over things like "oh shit, did I turn the stove off" and "is the front door locked?" I have actually been known to get in my car and drive down the street, then circle around and go back to re-check everything.
It's gotten worse since I got my dog, because I there is a little voice in the back of my head that says "your dog is going to catch on fire because you didn't turn off the stove, then he's going to run down the street in a ball of flames because you didn't lock the door and you'll never see him again." Retarded, I know.
I deal with it by having a little checklist in my head before I leave the house. I check everything, in order, every time I walk out the door. I am aware that this makes me insane, but I have yet to burn my house down or let my dog run free on the highway, so I guess it's working.
So anyway, I left my house yesterday morning for my piano lesson, after checking that the stove was turned off and yadda yadda yadda. Kissed the dog on his fuzzy face and locked the door behind me. Checked the handle and pushed on the door, to make sure it was shut. Closed the screen door. Closed the gate on my deck (I had a gate installed because Rusty likes to sit on the deck and bark at the squirrels).
Went to my piano lesson and almost got pushed off the road because the wind was terrible yesterday. I ended up staying at my lesson about a half hour later than normal, because we were going over different books and sheet music. On the way home, I stopped at the grocery store because I haven't been grocery shopping in about two months.
When I finally got home, I dragged all of the bags up to my front door, unlocked it and walked in, fully expecting to be run over by my dog. But he wasn't there. I looked over at his dog bed, and he wasn't there either. Glanced at my bed, since he likes to sneak up there when I'm not home, but it was empty. I called "Rusty?" and got no response. I stood still for a minute, listening, but my apartment was silent. In my head, I'm thinking "WTF, I know I checked the door, how did he get out?!" and I start to panic.
I dropped the bags and began running around the apartment screaming "RUSTY? RUSTY!". Finally, after about a minute, I heard something moving in my closet. I rushed into the office just in time to see his little head poke out from behind a suitcase.
The fucking dog was hiding in the closet, because he could hear the wind blowing outside and it scared him.
My big brave guard dog was HIDING IN THE CLOSET because HE WAS SCARED OF THE FUCKING WIND.
It took me a minute to coax him out of the goddamned closet, and when he finally came out, he ran to me with his tail tucked up against his ass and he jumped into my lap, licking my face. For the rest of the day, every time the wind picked up, he'd run to my side and either press himself against my feet or jump into my lap.
Goddamed dog.
It's gotten worse since I got my dog, because I there is a little voice in the back of my head that says "your dog is going to catch on fire because you didn't turn off the stove, then he's going to run down the street in a ball of flames because you didn't lock the door and you'll never see him again." Retarded, I know.
I deal with it by having a little checklist in my head before I leave the house. I check everything, in order, every time I walk out the door. I am aware that this makes me insane, but I have yet to burn my house down or let my dog run free on the highway, so I guess it's working.
So anyway, I left my house yesterday morning for my piano lesson, after checking that the stove was turned off and yadda yadda yadda. Kissed the dog on his fuzzy face and locked the door behind me. Checked the handle and pushed on the door, to make sure it was shut. Closed the screen door. Closed the gate on my deck (I had a gate installed because Rusty likes to sit on the deck and bark at the squirrels).
Went to my piano lesson and almost got pushed off the road because the wind was terrible yesterday. I ended up staying at my lesson about a half hour later than normal, because we were going over different books and sheet music. On the way home, I stopped at the grocery store because I haven't been grocery shopping in about two months.
When I finally got home, I dragged all of the bags up to my front door, unlocked it and walked in, fully expecting to be run over by my dog. But he wasn't there. I looked over at his dog bed, and he wasn't there either. Glanced at my bed, since he likes to sneak up there when I'm not home, but it was empty. I called "Rusty?" and got no response. I stood still for a minute, listening, but my apartment was silent. In my head, I'm thinking "WTF, I know I checked the door, how did he get out?!" and I start to panic.
I dropped the bags and began running around the apartment screaming "RUSTY? RUSTY!". Finally, after about a minute, I heard something moving in my closet. I rushed into the office just in time to see his little head poke out from behind a suitcase.
The fucking dog was hiding in the closet, because he could hear the wind blowing outside and it scared him.
My big brave guard dog was HIDING IN THE CLOSET because HE WAS SCARED OF THE FUCKING WIND.
It took me a minute to coax him out of the goddamned closet, and when he finally came out, he ran to me with his tail tucked up against his ass and he jumped into my lap, licking my face. For the rest of the day, every time the wind picked up, he'd run to my side and either press himself against my feet or jump into my lap.
Goddamed dog.