Slow day at the office, until my ass vibrated at 5:55. Whipped out the phone, had a text message from the Mister.
Dogs out loose. Found boys. Missing Casey. Getting laundry then continuing search.
At 5:55:43, I punched out, and was enroute home.
The last half-mile was the worst - we live on the corner of a busy road and a cul de sac and I really, really didn't want to find my dog on the side of that busy road.
I didn't.
Got home to find the mister in the road with the super-ancient neighbor who had seen them go through the front window. He had, using his walker, corralled Jack and was wrestling him up the driveway when the Mister arrived home. Dude cannot really walk and I have never seen him past his driveway, and he was out rescuing my retards.
That left Casey.
I lost my childhood dog to a busy road years ago, and that was all I could think of. The Mister went in the house to listen to messages (the house number is on the tags) while I hit the road.
Not 200 yards from the house, my ass vibrated again.
"Found her." I flipped around and headed home to find him on the phone with a woman around a mile away who had my girl in her backyard. We drove over and found a middle-aged lady in scrubs, whose son, after school, had pointed out that he'd found a rather hairy friend while playing football in the yard.
[insert giant sigh of relief]
They're back. The screen has been replaced and the window is now closed over it. We owe the neighbors a cup of coffee and a game of cribbage.
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