The routine around here has shifted quite a bit in the past three weeks.
Where once we had a rushed, frenzied morning getting ready in an hour or less - is now long and drawn out and, to be honest, doesn't include "getting ready" at all. Tom takes the early shift with Tango, feeding him around 5:30 am everyday and then snuggling in the chair until about 8 am. Tom and Tango (T-squared) usually fall back asleep and then at 8, Tom starts actually getting ready for his day.
That is usually when my turn with Tango kicks in. I try to rest with him or keep him occupied until it's time for our walk around 9. On this particular day, I had a phone call at 10:30 that I had to be available for, so we were making sure that we were out the door at 9. We usually walk for about 35 minutes, but with Tango, you never know what he has on his agenda and I like to build in a little extra time in case I have to go chasing him around.
Tom's work meeting started at 8:30 and I was trying to get myself ready - and get Tango ready. This includes getting dressed while the dog is nipping at my feet and ankles while I'm trying to get my shoes on, filling my pockets with treats, AND finding the leash. This was the one thing I could not find. Tom had walked Tango last the day before, and I didn't want to interrupt Tom at his work meeting, but I did want to get this little monster out of the house.
After wildly flailing my arms to get Tom's attention, mouthing, "WHERE. IS. THE. LEASH?" complete with homemdae hand-gestures that probably looked more like, 'Get me the spaghetti noose!!' Tom attempts gesturing back and quickly realizes I'm not listening because I'm frantically searching. Oh, and NOW Tango is chewing on some black plastic at the bottom of the dryer in the laundry room. GREAT. I'm really starting to freak - we have to get him OUT of here before he starts destroying EVERYTHING.
I look in the cupboard where we keep most Tango supplies. No leash. I look in the laundry room. No sign of it. I look in the garage - which is where I remembered seeing it last. Not there. I looked in the front entry way, where T-squared had come through upon returning from their walk the day before. Not there, either. Now I was just getting frustrated. Where is the flipping leash!?!?
I storm into the living room ready to blow up Tom's meeting if I have to. I'm working on trying to recognize that small things are not five-alarm emergencies, but clearly, I'm not 'there' yet. I say firmly, "Where is the leash? We need to go...like...now." Tom says, "Look in the shower."
Now, I was really confused. The shower? Yeah, I definitely wouldn't have looked there. That would probably be the last place I looked. Plus, I had showered that morning, and definitely didn't remember seeing a leash. But...okay...I'll go look in the shower.
Tom follows me into our bathroom, explaining that after Tango had played with our neighbor dog, Lily, in the wetlands, he'd given him a shower. But, none of this was adding up to me because I thought the dog had played with Lily two days prior, not just yesterday. But, then, I started to question myself because I have very little notion of what day it is. Once in the bathroom, it was plain to see: No. Leash.
OMG! Where is the leash!?
Then, Tom says, "Well the last place I had it was in the laundry room - I think. I hung it over the bar above the washer and dryer." And, I'm thinking - well if that's where it was, I obviously would have seen that. We march into the laundry room and sure enough, the leash is not hanging on the bar. However, it had fallen down between the washer and dryer.
It turns out, the little piece of black plastic that Tango had been chewing on, was not part of the dryer afterall. It was part of his collar that was attached to the leash. It seems that Tango knew where his leash was the entire time. Had I stopped to see what he was actually chewing, instead of angrily shouting at him to STOP CHEWING things, I would have found the leash about 5 minutes faster than I did. Maybe this dog will teach me a thing or two, yet.
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