Last Sunday night, Xena and Gabby went off on another one of their infamous adventures. You know, the kind that cause me to lose sleep and what little hair I have left. They didn’t show up when I poured food in their food bowls Sunday night; only Gabby had come home by Monday night. Her behavior was very unusual – she was very depressed and wasn’t eating. That’s when the sinking feeling set in that something was terribly wrong. I’ve attempted to get Gabby to lead me to where she last saw Xena, but she either can’t go or just doesn’t know where she is.
It’s been five days now since we’ve seen her. The weather has been getting progressively worse – colder and rainier with a decent chance for sleet tonight – and there’s no sign of her. I think my old dog is gone. Read More
Look who the cats dragged in.
None the worse for wear, though they seemed exhausted and dehydrated and very muddy. No idea where the hell they’ve been for two days.
As flip as the title sounds, it’s no laughing matter – both of the dogs have been missing for over 36 hours. The last time I saw them was before taking their late meal out to them on Saturday night; they evidently showed up at some point after that to eat, because their bowls were empty by morning, but I have no idea when that was – or where they went after that.
We’ve driven around, I’ve walked the property (and got eaten alive and followed around by a friendly brown horse while I was out there), I’ve walked up and down the street looking for any sign of them – even any sign that maybe they were both hit by the same vehicle or something like that. All trace of them has simply vanished. Their food from Sunday morning is still in their dog food bowls, untouched.
I can think of a lot of scenarios that would keep both of them from coming home. Very few of those scenarios end well for them. I’m worried sick to the point that I’ve unintentionally skipped meals (while cooking for everyone else in the house, no less – that’s quite a trick).
Come home soon, megamutts… we need to talk about curfew.
Ladies and gentlemen… my vicious guard dogs.
They ran inside as fast as they could at the first sign of rain. Presumably, this hasty retreat wore them out, because there they’ve stayed ever since.
It has come to my attention that there are a few folks finding it hard to believe that we have a house loaded with cats and Rottweiler mixes without any major diplomatic incidents. Here’s the proof:
Now, of course the cats are plotting the downfall of the dogs… and the dogs are just laying low hoping that their downfall doesn’t come. Then everyone just basically falls asleep on the big blanket.
Christmas was marred slightly by one minor thing: a blizzard hit. We had planned to spend the afternoon with friends, stuffing our faces and shooting whatever bulls wandered into our view, but there was already ice falling from the sky by the time we got there. It turned into a meet-and-greet-and-eat-and-get-the-hell-outta-Dodge.
Considering how bad the roads have gotten since then (the whole area’s pretty much been shut down, as thousands of schoolchildren bemoan the fact that this hit during a time of the year that they were out of school anyway), the haste was not premature. Read More
Chasing cars just isn’t fun anymore, big sis.
Enough with the planes crashing into volcanoes. Today’s the first anniversary of the day we adopted Gabby!