Today was a day of drama. I was dog-sitting for my brother’s dog while he went down to San Diego for a football game. I was only gone for a few hours, but when I got home, there was a hole in the fence where she had gotten out. I’m not going to go into details, but let’s just say that I was panic-stricken, wondering how in the heck I’m going to take care of a child when I can’t even take care of a dog for a few hours?

I walked around for an hour with the other two dogs, and Ronny drove around for a couple of hours in the truck. But the dog was nowhere to be found. I called the police, the animal shelter, and even posted an ad on Craigslist. But don’t worry; within 10 minutes of my brother driving around, the dog recognized his voice and was found.

What lingers, though, is my own concern about the well-being of my future child. Granted, the dog’s a boxer and she punched three slats out of our wooden fence, but still. Hopefully I’ll have better luck with the baby!


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