Weekend scare
Yesterday we too the dogs to the dog park, where they all had a fine time. Rainie (14 months old) laid down after wagging her tail at every dog to come in the door. Zeus pissed on everything and managed to snag 1/2 a sandwich and Gus played his own version of fetch, where he gets the ball, then comes running back, only to run around you. They were all pooped on the way home.

Bouyant by our Big Fun, Andrea let Gus off his leash in the front yard. This is something we've done with all of our dogs, Alice I could let go 1/2 block away and she wouldn't stray, Zeus and Rainie are fine in the yard, we assumed Gus would be too.

We were wrong.

Gus nosed the gate open (thanks to my infrequent groundskeeping efforts, it didn't close all the way) and took off, trotting down the street. Andrea took off after him and Zeus tried to also. I left the front door wide open, grabbed Rainie and Zeus and ran to the car. I didn't even put my seatbelt on. Andrea saw that he had gone right down San Carlos (a VERY busy street) so I headed that way. For once, the light at the corner was with me and soon, I saw him, trotting down the sidewalk. I pulled over like the cops do, blocking him in. I flew out of the car, shouting at him to stop and thank god, he did.

At this point, my legs are shaking so hard that I wonder how I'm still standing up and my voice has broken in a way I've never heard before. The little fucker is there wagging his silly stump of a tail at me as Andrea comes up. We're mad, we're relieved and we're all scared to death as Gus and Andrea pile into the car.

Until that moment, I had no idea how much the big galoot means to me. I'd tried to pretend that I was detached from him, from the other two, that without Alice, they don't touch my soul in the profound way that she did. And they don't, that's a place that's only hers. But this ragtag pack of punks that make up our family touches me too.