Stardom and More Trauma
Just when I think there’s going to be nothing exciting to write – something always seems to happen. And this was probably the most exciting 24 hours I’ve had in a while!
Firstly, the programme that was filmed about us, B, and the lovely J’s work in greyhound adoption was shown on Irish TV last night. J and I kept up some serious texting throughout the programme: ‘God, would you look at my eyebrows’….’is that what I really look like’ etc but the boys, in true TV styley, were completely blasé about their performances. First it showed J at work at the stadium (she’s just so smiley and friendly – a natural), then at her kennels, then they showed the interview with me, then the boys talking too. The shots where they were sitting on the floor eating biscuits and B was snaking around them trying to pinch their biccies was hilarious, and it all went down very well. I do confess to some rather girly squealing when my bit was on, which prompted a hail of cushions from the others who were trying to listen. As I said to J, if it makes just one person realise that greyhounds make great pets, then it’s worth the embarrassment (secretly, I rather enjoyed it, and I now know that my teeth look quite nice on telly, but not my arse).
Secondly, after all that excitement, the star of the show decided to go AWOL at bedtime. We thought we’d finally put a lid on the escape attempts, but after getting ready for bed and lying there waiting for Hubby for quite some time, I realised that something must be wrong. It was. Two seconds later, Hubby rushed in to tell me that B had disappeared under the bushes again and was nowhere to be seen. After a frantic hunt all round the back garden and out round the front of the house, there was no sign of her. A furious (and I suspect rather upset) Hubby announced that there was no point expending any more energy looking for her, and we decided to put her bed out in the garage and leave the door open so at least she could have shelter if she came home.
Lying in bed, I realised that I couldn’t just do nothing, so I quickly dressed and put my wellies on to look down the lane. Now you’ll know yourself from the pictures that the lane is long and windy, exposed to fields on both sides and I can tell you that at midnight on a blustery October night, it’s bloody spooky too. Scared out of my wits, I walked around calling her name. I thought I could hear her tag jingling in the bushes a couple of times, but there was no sign of her. I must admit, dear reader, to trudging back to the house in floods of tears, both frustrated and furious in turns. Bloody dog – if she loves us as much as we love her, why does she keep running away?
Anyway, I had a terrible, sleepless night and woke early this morning to the sound of rain. With terrible thoughts of finding her dead from hypothermia in the field, I quickly got dressed, intending to carry on the search once more, only to find a rather sheepish B gazing up at me from her chair in the hall, with her worried face on (Hubby calls it her ‘don’t beat me with a stick’ look)! Well, she got the biggest cuddle and a shower of kisses, and did her little squeaky whine thing, so maybe she was even pleased to see me too. Hubby (yes, the one that made out that he wasn’t bothered) had already got up, and was rather surprised to find her asleep on her duvet in the garage. God only knows what she had been up to – her lovely pink collar was all black and muddy, and she’s covered like a pin cushion in little thorns, but at least she’s safe. A quick check found no obvious cuts or injuries, so I’m just really, really relieved. She’s got her dental surgery tomorrow. God, it’s worse than being a new Mum.
