mother of GOD what a day

Department Retreat today. 'nuff said about that.

Exhaustion beyond belief.

Gratitude beyond belief to Nan and Molly who kept Belly today while I was gone for almost ten hours. I called Nan at lunchtime to see how my girl was doing.

Me: She being good?

Nan: I'm sorry if your girl comes home with a chapped face. Molly's been licking her practically the entire time she's been here.

OH MY GOD how I love that Molly girl. She's about a year and a half, full-blooded black lab, and full of the fire. Completely full of it. And oh, how she wanted Belly to play with her. Oh! But Belly's 4 and a half now, ya know, she's not much of a player anymore. So Molly, every time she walked by the Belle, licked her face just to let her know she was welcome anyway. BREAKS. MY. HEART.

Really. It does.

So then I went over to Julie's for a couple of hours--with the Belly--for a post-retreat processing session. Very good. I love my friends.

Home tonight. Put Belly in the yard. Check email and such. Go to get Belly. SHE'S NOT IN THE YARD AND THE FENCE IS OPEN. Panic.

Walk the streets yelling her name, can't help thinking about the very busy street one block away, about how I've not really had to run after her in this neighborhood, about how she's probably dead and I just got finished telling Nan how I always wanted her to be a bit more obedient and attached to me and how she couldn't stop kissing me when I picked her up at Nan's tonight.

I'm walking outside in my pajamas with her leash in my hand calling her name and the neighbors--the ones across the street who most consider a nuisance because of their pit bulls and their many many children--they're the ones who come out to help me call for Belly. And that, THAT, my friends, breaks my heart even more than Molly. The neighbors that EVERYONE on the street warned me about when I moved here--they're the ones who open the door and say, "Is Annabelle loose?" She's the one--the mom--who comes out in her robe to help me search for my girl.

I got my girl. She's okay. I'm still a bit mad at her, but she's okay. I'd finally gotten into the car to look for her and the second time back around to my street, there she was standing there on the front porch. She knows where she lives. That much I know. But oh, the exhaustion. I'm beat. Completely. And I'm beginning to understand that saying. You've beat me. I'm done. I surrender.