dognapping

As all who read this blog know by now, Annabelle stayed in a kennel while I was in San Francisco. She stayed at the same place that she usually goes to doggie day care, so they know and love her and vice versa. They gave me a key so that I could go into the small geriatric room, where they'd put Belly on the last night, and get her at whatever ungodly hour I arrived back in town. Turns out that hour was 2:00 a.m. Well, she wasn't where she was supposed to be. And I was TIRED. Cranky. Where's my dog?

Went into the very large room where they board all the dogs. Turned on the lights. Holy barking, bat man. Every single dog in there was put on orange alert. I thought the cops were gonna show up. I found her right away. But all her stuff--Baby, mommy's sweatshirt, her leash, for crying out loud--was nowhere to be found. So I grabbed her by the collar and walked her out to the car. I felt like I was kidnapping my own dog.

Turns out whoever was on duty Saturday night didn't look in the computer to see that I'd be picking up my girl real late.

The result of Belly's time in the kennel: she's been humbled. Took her to the dog park yesterday and one of the other regulars said, "Wow, she's not her loud self today. She's subdued." Yup, she just got back from the kennel.

I'm sure it won't be long before she's got the fire up her ass again. She's so so happy to be home. She's probably emotionally exhausted. I know I am.