A Dog with a Chip on his Shoulder
The following is a true story (or should I say horror story) that happened to us yesterday.
A Dog with a Chip on his Shoulder
It was a beautiful Hurricane Friday – 60 mile an hour wind, 6 inches of rain, trees uprooted left and right, power outages all over the place, streets flooded, bridges closed – another words, just a day to relax and do your nails. So, after I dropped off the kids to school, that’s exactly what I was going to do, except my husband decided to play hooky from work as well. He had another “nailing” in mind. Same morning my cleaning lady, Barbara, who was scheduled to work in Marin County also decided to play hooky and come to my house instead. I know what you are thinking, but this is not a story about how she walked in on us.
This story actually starts when I drove Barbara home. As usual, my three dogs - two poodles and Bugsy – followed me into the car. For those who don’t know yet, Bug is a tiny Hav. They (including Barbara) love to ride and don’t mind the wind and the rain.
Barbara was happy that I am driving her home during the storm, and the dogs were looking forward to their walk. Even though I wasn’t going to walk them in this weather, it would have been a cruel punishment not to at least give them a nice ride.
Anyway, I dropped off Barbara and then stopped off at the boutique closing store for pets to get the poodles the rain coats. Brandy, my apricot girl, went with me to try out several latest fashions. She liked the red one, even though I preferred a green. After a short argument we bought the red, got back into the car and drove home where my husband was monitoring the storm activities and making sure the tree in the backyard doesn’t fall on the house.
When I am driving Bug usually gets on my lap, stands up and looks out the window. After about ten minutes of driving I realized he is not doing it. Then I realized why.
Bug wasn’t in the car with us!!! My brain went into an overdrive as I slammed the brakes. I asked Brandy and Romeo were Bug was, still hoping he was hiding in the car. But they assured me he wasn’t there. Next step is to get hysterical and drive back to the store, which I did. At the same time I called my husband and calmly screamed at him that I lost Bugsy during the hurricane, amidst buckets of rain, falling trees and power outages. Having slight difficulty understanding me due to all the dog barking and my yelping, crying and screaming, my husband calmly, quietly and politely asked me to cease the hysterics and go back to where Bug accidentally got out – how stupid of him since I was doing it already. As I get back to that street, there was no sign of Bugsy. That’s when my mind stopped generating new and original ideas, decided to go into prevent mode and started to shut down all the functions except tear glands and those mussels that violently shake your hands, legs and jaw.
My husband arrives at the scene of my crime, as he put it in many, many more eloquent and uplifting words. In a pouring rain we get out of the cars, spread out and start running all over the Height neighborhood screaming “Bugsy!!!, Bug, come little boy”, waiting for a miracle to happen. After about 30 minutes of looking like two crazy people my husband, the calm and collected one, told me that I better hope Bug will be found by somebody who does not appreciate a smelly, wet dog and brings him to SPCA.
I am driving home with my two poodles, as my husband is still driving around the Height district screaming his head of for our little dog. That’s when the miracle happened!
I got a call from the local animal hospital telling me that Bugsy was hit by a car…
After a couple of minutes of yet another hysteria, I was rudely interrupted by the girl on the phone who told me that hi is wet, but otherwise alright. Bugsy was crossing one of the busiest street intersections in the city and was slightly nudged by the car. The driver and his girlfriend found the local pet hospital and brought Bug there. The hospital immediately scanned the little chip which was implanted into Bug’s shoulder, got my telephone and called me. I was there to pick up my baby in less then 15 minutes, and the entire ordeal was washed away like water down the storm drain. Bug had a small scratch near his eye. Other then that, he showed no ill effects of the ordeal.
My daughter got the story from my husband, who obviously embellished certain facts. She though he was joking. Then, when he explained that it all actually happened, she wanted to get microchipped herself.
There are two morals in this story. First – don’t believe the stories of lost dogs finding their way home, running for miles sniffing the air. Bug ran 15 blocks in the wrong direction. Second, I wish you never go through what I went through that Friday morning, but do what I did 8 months before – put a chip in his shoulder-your dog will thank you for it.