Can balance large objects on head if offered a piece of cheese
Our friends Maggie and Bryan were driving through Utah for the holiday and stopped to spend a couple nights with us. Maggie and I spent a sunny Sunday afternoon shopping for gifts and dresses and then sat in a small cafe to dissect why I am such a chronic worrier. I don't think Maggie realizes this, and when she reads this she will most likely retch, elegantly, but she has become my life coach over the last year. You cannot come away from having spent five minutes with the woman without thinking that your life is suddenly going to make a dramatic upswing. Or hoping that someone with such amazing hair has some awful personality blemish just to balance out the universe. Like maybe she's a huge fan of Fabio or goes to bed wearing pajamas decorated with purple chickens.
I have always been a worrier, and in second grade I used to get so sick with anxiety about the timed math tests I took on Tuesday mornings that the worrying would start the Friday night before. I was hardly able to sleep or eat or think about anything other than the addition or subtraction problems that I would encounter on that single sheet of paper, and by the time my teacher started the clock on the test I was so violently ill that I could barely hold my pencil upright. I remember thinking that my future was dependent on whether or not I performed perfectly, and that if I missed one problem a series of events would unfold: one, my mother wouldn't love me. Two, she would kick me out of the house. Three, I would die homeless.
This is what I like to call The Spiral, and I have spent my life fine-tuning this skill. I start by making sure everything around me is normal and in working order, and then I start to worry about the littlest thing that could go wrong. It's always something very tiny and insignificant, but by the time I have finished analyzing it in my head it has turned into the Worst Case Scenario: small A leads to small B leads to very awful C jumps straight to homeless and dead. See Fig. A.
Maggie got me thinking about why I do this, and at first I thought it might be hereditary. My father is notoriously frugal, always has been, has saved every penny from every paycheck since the day he started working because he was afraid he might lose it all. A couple weeks ago while he was sitting on our living room floor playing with Leta, Jon absentmindedly called him "miserly" to his face, and I immediately fell over and broke my head. This did not faze my father a bit, not surprisingly as he is very proud of his ability to save money. Although I'm sure he would have preferred a more accurate word, like "rich."
And maybe a little bit of the reason I worry so much is because I am my father's daughter, but when talking it out with Maggie I realized that the root of it is a singular thought that has followed me through my life, the thought that because there are other people in the world who do not have it good as I do, other people who do not have a warm place to sleep or food to eat or a TiVo with which to record every episode of The Bachelor, I need to worry about something, anything. That I owe it to those who have a harder life. That because I am very lucky I need to suffer crippling anxiety to even things out a little bit.
And of course, the exact opposite is true. I owe it to those who are not as lucky as I am to appreciate the hell out of my life, I know this fundamentally, I just can't get around the guilt I experience almost every hour over the fact that my life is really good when so many in this world have lives full of ongoing tragedy, an overwhelming feeling that if I am not a stressed out mess everything will be taken away from me. Maggie got me to see that the way in which I worry about things is so hypnotic that it causes me to walk directly into what it is I fear, that my worry is causing what I'm worrying about to happen. And then she suggested that maybe I should start worrying about developing really big breasts or about a large trunk of money falling out of the sky onto my head.
I left that cafe feeling totally renewed, and for the rest of the day I kept smiling when I thought about how much better my life will be without The Spiral, about how I can channel all the energy that I used to spend worrying about everything into more productive things, like charity work or reading books to Leta or skipping through the house naked and drunk. And I was still feeling this jolt of exhilaration that evening when I walked outside with the dog to let him perform his nightly duties, still reeling from the possibilities when for a second I thought about something inside and stepped back in to run and put something away or fix something, I don't remember. It seemed important, seemed critical at the time, but now I cannot even remember what was so crucial that it made me leave my dog outside unattended. Without his collar on.
Do you see where this is going?
I got so distracted once I walked in the door that I forgot that I had let the dog outside. I'm going to go ahead and admit to this, although it is one of the most embarrassing and horrible and devastating things I have ever done. I could try to be vague and say that we lost our dog because he got out somehow or because of negligence, but that would not be telling the whole truth. It was my fault. I was the one who let him out, so I should have been the one to make sure he got back in. I didn't. That is what happened.
I was unsure about whether or not I was going to write about this for a few reasons. First, it didn't seem fair to roll out this drama in front of my readers for a second time. Who loses their dog two times in one year and expects any response other than ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Second, I can guarantee that someone is going to accuse me of making this up in an attempt to drum up sales for the 2007 Chuck Calendar. Just like I made up Leta to have something to talk about on this website.
Maggie asked if I was going to write about it, and pointed out that no one would have to know about it except for the people in our neighborhood who saw these fliers:
I don't know, it would have felt wrong to have not talked about this because Chuck is such a huge part of the narrative on this website. And because Sunday night was the worst night of my life. It would be weird to try to write something else here as if this didn't happen.
Jon and I drove around in our car for two hours Sunday night shaking bottles of anti-depressants out the window hoping that Chuck would come running to the sound. Bryan drove his car for the same amount of time looking up alleys and driveways. By 1 AM we had given up, and once we were back home I lay in bed with the pillow over my head to muffle my hysterical screaming. It was one of my worst nightmares, my dog missing in the freezing cold, his toys and rawhide bones scattered underneath my feet like little Polaroids of his life.
By morning my eyes were almost swollen shut, and both Jon and I had barely slept an hour having both obsessed over every terrible possibility in our heads. Leta woke up early, and so we waited in panicked silence for a few hours until the animal shelters and vet's offices opened. Jon started leaving messages as Maggie and Bryan posted fliers across several streets. And every time the phone rang we all looked at each other, hopeful, apprehensive, wishing we would soon wake up from a bad dream. I have a recurring nightmare in which all my teeth fall out, and after I have spit them into my hand I tell myself that it is a dream, and I can wake myself up. I kept trying to do that yesterday morning, kept telling myself that this wasn't real, and that if I concentrated hard enough I could open my eyes and Chuck would be sitting right there in front of me with a coffee pot balancing on his head.
And I guess this is where I try to tie the whole thing together, and if you bear with me this just might make sense. Or not, I can't promise anything. At some point yesterday morning I realized I had to let go, had to stop gritting my teeth because that was not helping us find the dog any faster. I had to stop imagining him frozen in a ditch, or at least hold off on that spiral until we had at least talked to one animal shelter. And I swear to god, it wasn't ten minutes after I had taken that huge, calming breath that we got a phone call. I know it was just a coincidence, but it was a loud coincidence.
I was sitting with Leta on our bed when I heard Jon in the living room say, "SOMEONE HAS HIM!" and I ran out to hear him promising reward money and possible sexual favors to someone over his cell phone. A kind family one street over had found Chuck sitting on their porch the night before, invited him in to play with their own dogs, fed him, and let him stay the night. They said the dogs played mischievously for hours. The next morning the father called Animal Control, and when the truck came to pick him up they scanned for a microchip and couldn't find the one we had implanted into the back of his neck earlier this year. The only reason the man knew to call our number was because he had seen the flier Maggie and Byran had posted on one of his trees when he left for work.
It would be several hours before we would actually see Chuck again because we got to the animal shelter long before the Animal Control truck had finished its rounds. When the officer walked through the door with my dog I felt a violent cocktail of emotions, relief and joy and regret and exhaustion, but mostly I felt like I did in 1997 when I woke up with a hangover from a Long Island Iced Tea, a hangover that lasted three days and caused me to puke in three different trashcans.
Chuck saw me and was all DUDE, HAVE I GOT A STORY FOR YOU. Bryan had joked that Chuck would probably show up somewhere with rum on his breath, a headache, and a tattoo of a scrotum on his forehead. And that wasn't far from the truth. He was happy and ready for his next adventure.
Welcome home, Puppy.
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Heather talks about public tantrums (from kids) on today's Momversation.
- RIP Louis Mortimer Armstrong: http://bit.ly/1R4tv6
- Hugs and kisses to you, too! RT: @Monkey_Tree: @dooce he probably committed suicide because he was tired of LISTENING TO YOU WHINE.
- Our fish just died. And I'm sitting here crying. And it wasn't even my fault!
301. Amy D. said:
Sometimes I think I AM you....yay for safe puppies!
Here's my strategy: pick one thing, just ONE THING. And don't worry about it.....at all. Work on that, then go to two things, and so on, and before you know it, hopefully we both just won't care about anything that we actually know isn't important! We're too smart to kill ourselves like we do over silly shit! Sending calm that only chemical substances can bring,
Love,
Amy
302. victoria said:
Yay! Chuck is back!
303. Kelly said:
Oh Heather, I was within inches of bursting into tears until I got to the part about him being found. Wow, it's amazing how your family feels like my own after reading your blog for a while. I'm so glad he's home.
304. ketty said:
This post brought tears to my eyes, and it's not a good time for that. I'm in a training room with a dozen other people and it is hard to play off missing-doggy induced tears.
But I know exactly how you felt. I have 4 dogs who are my babies and a big yard on 5th East near Granite High in South Salt Lake and one morning I let the dogs out to play and didn't realize that the gate wasn't closed. 30 minutes later I looked outside and realized that it was entirely too quiet and my heart sank - it felt like all of the blood had rushed out of my body and for just one breathless moment, my world stopped.
I got my shit together seconds later and tossed on my gardening shoes, the only time I actually left my yard in my bright purple plastic clogs, and rushed to the street and called out to my dogs.
And in that second, the world narrowed down to one long tunnel with me standing at one end in front of my yard in the early morning half light and my big silly dogs at the other end, running towards me from several blocks away in what seemed like slow motion. I stood there as they ran down 5th east towards me, eager to be snuggled and loved as they knew they would be when they got home. In hind sight, I can see the cars that had to stop to wait as 2 towering Great Danes and a Newfoundland looking just like a black bear ran down the middle of the street, trailed by a happy, shaggy black cocker spaniel, but at the time, I couldn't see anything but my dogs and the road between us. I can hear the sounds that were around me then, the wind and the sound of the cars leaving their driveways and my fiance running out of the house to help, but for that minute as the pack ran towards me, the world was completely silent and in my mind, all of the horrible scenarios that I had dreamed up in my head - dead on the side of the road, snatched by the kid who fights dogs down the street, wandering together far away never to return - were quickly rewinding as if being sucked back into my wild imagination by a tape rewinder.
Sometimes our imaginations are our own worse enemies.
305. joe said:
Nice going, dumbass. Just kidding, H. I figured SOMEONE out of 300 comments had to be an asshole, so I volunteered.
J
306. MissLissa said:
I'm so glad you found Chuck safe and sound! I was starting to get really worried and was totally tearing up. I'm sure if he could talk he'd have some wild tales to tell!
307. SurprisingWoman said:
I am glad he is home.
Congratulations for being able to let go of the teeth clinching, negative inner voice for a few minutes. I used to be like that. Now I am old and I have learned that it's easier to let go than not. It takes time, but you have taken that crucial first step.
Have a wonderful holiday season. Thanks for posting your stories.
308. Jen Mahler said:
Oh my god. I can't imagine what you had to go through with this. I have violent anxiety about everything too - ESPECIALLY involving my beloved pets. Your story almost made me cry - at work. I am so so so thankful you found him. If it ever happens again, email me and I'll drive over (I believe we live close) and help you find him. You have my word!
309. Christian said:
I'm glad Chuck is back home safe, I know just from your writings how much he means to you and your family.
As for feeling guilty because others are less fortunate,just remember that what is considered fortunate and unfortunate is subjective and just because you feel more fortunate than others doesn't mean they feel the same.
But mostly Marianne Williamson said it best:
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
310. cate said:
What? He's not talking yet?
Wait for it.....
311. lovelyanduppermost said:
me (9:45:42 AM): did u read that long dooce post yet?
jen(9:46:08 AM): yeah
me (9:46:25 AM): man
me (9:46:31 AM): i texted u in the middle of readin it
me (9:46:41 AM): i almost freaked out because I thought Chuck was lost, but I hadn't finished reading it yet
me (9:46:42 AM): LOL
jen(9:46:44 AM): lol
me (9:46:56 AM): i just got his calendar. I'd be sooo sad if I had to look at him all year knowin he was out lost in the world
me (9:49:17 AM): but what i wanna know is
me (9:49:22 AM): how come chuck don't know where he live?
jen(9:49:26 AM): lol
jen(9:49:33 AM): right, as much as he's outside the crib
me (9:49:36 AM): lol i know
jen(9:49:37 AM): you would think he'd recognize it
me (9:49:43 AM): he should be able to sniff his way back
me (9:49:51 AM): maybe he just needed a vacation
312. Gooseberried said:
So. Many. Emotions. from reading this post. First I was all like, "Oh Heather, you gotta snap outta that." Then I was like, "Oh no!" Then I was all, "Whew!" Then, "Awwww!" That was a rough read, yet so delightful.
313. MsShad said:
I have been in relationships where my men (and my son) get really upset at my worrying. When they are just one minute late, I skip from "hmmm wonder why they're late"to "They're dead on the road" in 1.4 seconds. For me, I know it comes from having my youngest son die. I KNOW for a personal fact that the worst CAN happen, so yes, I worry. The strange thing is that once I reach that state of knowledge in 1.4 seconds? I am strangely calm and accepting.
I'm going to have to think about this one.
Great post, and it killed me to think of Chuck being missing. Luckily I held on to life long enough to know he's safe and sound.
314. Tanya said:
Jaysus, woman! Don't *do* that to us.
I held my breath so long, I passed out on my keyboard. I'm glad it all turned out well and the former congressman is home safe and sound.
(We'll be waiting for a picture of him with the coffee pot.)
315. Julie_Gong said:
Glad Chuck is back home safe and sound!
316. andig said:
You made me cry and laugh at the same time.
I'm glad Chuckles is home.
317. Marie Freeman said:
I have the same dream of losing my teeth. For the longest time I thought it was because I feared my deep seated redneck genes, but after googling it, this nightmare appears to be a common one.
Give Chuck a scritch behind his ears for me!
318. H said:
Our Husky got out of our back yard one day when the gate blew open. Huskies are known for their ability to run long distances, fast, and I live in constant terror that he'll take off and I'll never see him again.
But he only went to the neighbor's house to play with their dogs, surprising the neighbors when he came indoors to get a drink. He crashed on their kitchen floor while they called the multiple phone numbers on the tags on his collar.
Scary! I had to skip to the end to make sure Chuck was ok!
319. Prozac-Mommy said:
My heart simply sank for you. Knowing how much you love Chuck it was like losing a family member!! I seriously had tears in my eyes at the end of the story!!
I can't say I'd be so heart broken if our dog disappeared like that...however if it was my 'fault' I would be shunned for life! I could seriously live without the "spawn of Satan!"
320. honey bunny said:
i don't really have a comment about losing chuck, except to say that i'm glad he's home and that he's ok.
but i do have a comment about the constant worrying. i do that too. constantly. it started with me when i was in 4th grade and being the ugly poor girl with bad fashion sense, i felt like i had to overcompensate for the fact that i was such a loser. so i worried about my school work, like you. it continued until i graduated college 8 years ago.
but now it's back, only i'm worrying about my cat, my apartment, my husband, my health, my hair, my teeth, my empty bank account, and the fact that i can't find a job. i think i'm not able to find a job because i keep worrying that i will never find one and my husband will divorce me because we can't live on one salary AND pay for my LUSH habit at the same time. hopefully i can end the spiral as well. then maybe the depression will go away as well.
thanks for posting about this, heather.
321. sarahcupcakes said:
I am so, so, so glad Chuck made it home okay! I would've been devastated if I had to read a story that resulted in him never returning home, so of course I can only imagine how his actual family would feel. I've temporarily lost my dog (who happens to look very much like Bo) before and it is the worst, but man, I've never been happier to see him than when he was found!
322. Prozac-Mommy said:
One thing I have to say Heather is that I'm right there with you on the worrying and anxiety!!! Reading your interpretations of the "spiral" really gave me visuals to my own ways of dealing with the day-to-day.
It's one thing to say DON'T WORRY...but to actually do it is really beyond our control. I don't believe it's hereditary, but learned. I really don't think my parents were like me in that way, but the unstable environment that I grew up in is to blame.
Medication will only take you so far....what I've learned is that I have to change my thought process. I need to step back and look how unrealistic my feelings and/or thoughts are...it's not going to happen over night, but with enough work the patterns become apparent and the changes WILL happen.
BABY STEPS!
323. Andrew W said:
My girlfriend and I have now agreed we'll only take our dogs outside if they are chained to our bodies.
324. Mary Frances said:
There are few givens in life, one being that shit happens...to everyone, even perfect girls. Worrying about when and how it will happen is just a waste of time. Try using a little excremental vision Heather. Shit can be a great fertilizer, if we use it correctly. It can help stuff grow. Chuck wasn't lost, he was just on an adventure that didn't include you. And you? You learned a great lesson from a friend and got a great story out of it.
325. Kari said:
"I have a recurring nightmare in which all my teeth fall out, and after I have spit them into my hand I tell myself that it is a dream, and I can wake myself up."
Holy shit, I have that exact.same.drea. If you ever figure out what it means, would you send me an email?
326. Snickrsnack Katie said:
I am glad to hear that your baby came home. I am also an extreme downward spiral type of worrier. Sometimes, just taking a breath and realizing things aren't in our hands is what brings about answers. I know now I don't have all the answers or have control over everything. I can only imagine the hysteria I would feel if my dog were missing - I am sure it would be tough to give up control like that.
Welcome home Chuckles!
327. sangsterrific said:
Wow. Several years ago the same thing happened to me--treasured dog got out with no collar and remained missing for a week during a very rare period of extremely bad weather in SoCal. I was inconsolable thinking of all the terrible, horrible, very bad things that could happen to him, including dying in a ditch somewhere, being captured by evil scientists that were currently performing vivisection on him, or being used as a fighting dog in some dark ghetto alley against some giant pit bull named "Killer." I posted about 200 flyers, searched every animal shelter in the greater Los Angeles area, and placed ads in 3 newspapers. I cried almost nonstop. We eventually found him after 6 days, 10 miles away, where he was living with a family who, I kid you not, had a severely handicapped child. My dog had become a source of joy for this young boy who could not even sit up on his own. When we went to pick him up, there was my dog curled up on the floor licking him and making him laugh. This is true. I learned a big lesson about worrying that day, too. Even if I'd never found out what happened to my dog, he would have been adopted by a family that needed him even more than I do. Everything would have been better than fine. Weird. I still took my dog back, though, and left the kid with enough reward money to go out and get a new puppy.
328. lisa said:
I'm feeling luckier after reading your post, because while I am a worrier, I have my own "Maggie" who helps me off the ledge when I need it.
So glad Chuck is home where he belongs. My stomach turned when I read that at first.
329. Tara said:
I, too, am a worrier, so I hear where you're coming from.
So glad Chuckles made it home safely--I was having a heart attack as I read (but did not skip to the end to save myself the pain--stupid!).
And I LOVE Fig. A. Love it.
330. Wordnerd said:
I feel so guilty...I was halfway (obviously) thru your post and was about to jump to the end and make a snarky comment about this Republican Nascar fan being able to take good care of your adorable Leta, but then I kept reading. And I got so worried! So glad Chuck the Wonder Dog is back home -- I know how terrifying that must have been.
And if it's all the same to you, I'm not really a Nascar fan.
331. Green said:
I'm so glad you got Chuck back. I grew up with a dog - we lost her ONCE. We found her the same night we lost her, but reading this blogpost, my heart totally sank until you found him.
332. goddesschristine said:
That picture.....oh that picture.
Glad he's home and safe, I thought my heart was going to break for you
333. jdaik said:
What a great ending! As an animal lover, I can only imagine what you must have been going through..
334. choice said:
If I were not 8 weeks pregnant, I would have needed a strong drink after reading that post. Because you deserve to have a glass raised for you for being able to carve a story that gripping out of events so traumatic and paradigm-shifting that it's nearly impossible to make sense of so soon afterward, let alone write about. Though I never thought I would weep over something you've written the way I wept after Newsletter Thirty-two, I completely feel into the ugly cry by the time I finished reading this post. I wish you could feel for one moment how deeply in love your readers are with you and your family. It is the power that you wield with camera and the written word that has made following your life irresistable to us. Thank you, Heather, for always coming to the page. You have no idea how much we learn about ourselves by following along on this journey with you.
335. fraucowtown said:
Oooh, thank goodness for nice people! I was getting sad reading, hoping this was not going to have a tearful ending. Give Chuck lots of hugs from all his fans out here.
336. stephanie said:
holy shit.
i can't read 300+ comments right now but i just had to say that. and i can tell you, while i was reading this, my eyes bulged and my face fell closer and closer into the screen until it was over and i almost bumped my head. phew. i can't imagine what relief you must feel.
we have 2 dogs and 2 cats, and once, just once, the kitten ran out when i came home and opened the door, and i thought he'd be gone forever. and of course, he belongs to my roommates. thankfully, we live in an apt still and he'd have to get down 3 flights of stairs and out another set of locked doors but i swear, he almost did. SCARY. i'd never live down the guilt.
i'm so glad he's back where he belongs. silly chuck, don't run. they love you, i swear.
337. The LCA said:
Everything to say has probably already been said at this point, but regardless, I want to thank you for writing about The Spiral. I've had it all my life, and I'm still sort of surprised that not EVERYONE thinks that way. I also struggle with depression, and I'm in therapy for both. My therapist is quite helpful, but I'd never heard everything explained quite how you just did. And your perspective really gave me something to think about and it made sense.
I also credit you for arming me with knowledge of depression before it really struck me. When it did, I understood (somewhat) what was going on, that it wasn't my fault, how to be candid about it, and most importantly, how to get help. Thank you.
And of course, welcome home, Chuck!
338. m4yh3m said:
I don't think there is anything worse than the feeling of knowing a pet is lost. Our indoor cat escaped from the house once and we were fortunate to find her after several hours of hunting.
Glad to hear he's back. Did you ever find any tattoos?
339. Scarlett said:
My cat is exclusively an "indoor kitty," but she refuses to acknowledge that fact, so she often makes a break for it when she sees the opportunity. Having tracked her and pulled her from a drainage ditch, out from under a neighbor's car (parked, thankfully) and out of a tree on various occasions, I am clear on the terror and sick feeling missing pets bring.
I also almost lost a boyfriend's dog once, which is also horrifying. He was out of town, I was watching her, she slipped her harness while she was on her run in the backyard... She, too, was safely found (digging and wallowing in someone's garden two blocks over). But I aged about eight years in the 45 minutes it took to find her.
I add my congratulations (and relief) to Chuck's homecoming. Thanks, as always, for the candor, humor and love you put into your site.
340. Anu said:
Phew....that was one amazing story. I'm really happy Chuck came back safe and sound. I must admit though that I did sneak to the bottom of the story to make sure it ended happily ever after.
341. literatigirl said:
I'm so glad you guys found your pup. It is heartbreaking to lose pets.
Though your theory about why you suffer from anxiety is interesting, Heather, I have to say that I highly doubt it stems from guilt about how good your life is compared to other folks' suffering. Your anxiety is not your fault nor is it something you will ever likely be able to pin down so satisfactorily (I'm sure you know all of this). Do you really think that when you were seven you were anxious about math tests because your life was just so darn good and there were starving children in Africa and doggonit you just needed to feel badly about something? Anxiety, like depression, is an affliction and not something you do to yourself.
342. Molly Chase said:
I apologize if anybody's already recommended this book to you somewhere in these comments, but I just had to tell you that you have to read "A Little More About Me" by Pam Houston. It's a book of essays, and one of the first ones is called "The Bad Dogs of Park City." It's perfect, absolutely flawless. Welcome home, Chuck.
343. silvermine said:
If you ever learn how to get rid of The Spiral, let me know. I'm an expert at it, and can't make it stop. After all, the second you try, something horrible will happen... ugh. You've just confimed my fears. :(
I think The Spiral is the cause of more depression in the world than anyone can imagine!
344. Kristine said:
Heather, will you please turn your prayers (and not a bit of worrying -- it won't help) to my little dog Jack who went missing last night?
He's one of my joys in life and when I got home around 11, he didn't come jingling up the hallway to leap on me. Seems he re-dug that hole under the back fence that I knew needed to be re-filled again and this is all my fault and I don't know what to do.
I was in the process of creating a LOST DOG sign and stopped to breathe in a little more Diet Coke and read your site and OH MY GOD it's a happy story. I can only pray someone someone someone has my dog. Mine has his collar on, with our phone number, so I'm confused why they haven't called yet. Maybe the play date is going too well.
We will plaster the area with Lost Dog posters this afternoon -- as soon as I can leave work early. He's not in the pound but I will drive down and check anyway. Please please let him come home.
Jack: Mini schnauzer, recently clipped so he really looks like one. Lost in the West San Jose, CA area, near Lynbrook High School if that helps. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let him be found. We can use all the prayers you would have given Chuck if he hadn't come home so happily.
345. reddirtroad said:
Oh, Heather... So glad everything turned out alright.
I am very careful with my stuff and feel devastated when I lose my pen. I don't know what would happen if I ever lost my cat. I'm happy that someone cared enough to take Chuck in for the night; at least he was warm and happy and safe. Things could have been much worse. Focus on the perspective.
Welcome back, Chuck!
346. Megs said:
Freaking out vicariously through you...So glad to hear that Chuck is home. I almost had to scroll to the end just to make sure before I could keep on reading...
347. ariel said:
Had to skip to the end to read that he was ok... I was starting to worry!
348. causaleffect said:
I did actually think about buying a calendar as I read the story. But I also cheated and saw the flyer so I figured that was where the story was going.
Glad to hear that Chuck made it back. Can't wait for the stories he has to share.
349. platypus1320 said:
Hmmm, methinks he was just messing with your head. I'm pretty sure Chuck's smart enough to do that. he'll have been sitting across the street wearing a fedora and smoking a cigar whilst he watched you go out of your mind. Possibly revenge for the many things you've balanced on him over the years...
I'm so glad you got him back though. :0)
350. nobledesign said:
I didn't even know enough to skim forward in the post for the happy ending and nearly took to my bed in tears in the middle. Thank God you found that dear boy. I have a collection of screen shots of Chuck that you took on my wall that make me smile (copyright violation?). He really is a special friend. Cool to hear Maggie is so cool. And God bless whatever was at work making sure the flier was up where the good driver could see it that morning. More than luck. Whew!
351. April-Lyn said:
I'm so glad that Chuck was un-lost at the end of this story. I think I would have cried if he wasn't. I think we all do forgetful things like that sometimes, and I'm grateful that it all turned out fine!
Also, the last panel in your diagram? It just occured to me after looking at it for the third time that those republican nascar parents are MY PARENTS. They even have those hats. Ick.
352. Julie said:
I had this horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I read the part about you leaving Chuck outside - I was sure this story was going to end up with him getting hit by a car. I have never been so glad to be wrong in my entire life, because I was ready to burst into tears in the middle of my office. Hug that puppy for all of us.
353. sunnyskies said:
Oh! I am so glad Chuck is home! Yay!
When our dog got out a few years ago I thought I would die. Luckily he had just gone a couple of blocks over to the park where we took him regularly for doggie play time...but that time between when we realized he was missing until when we found him were some of the most fraught of my life. Glad you had a happy ending with your pup, too. :)
354. sunnyskies said:
Oh! I am so glad Chuck is home! Yay!
When our dog got out a few years ago I thought I would die. Luckily he had just gone a couple of blocks over to the park where we took him regularly for doggie play time...but that time between when we realized he was missing until when we found him was probably the most fraught of my life. Glad you had a happy ending with your pup, too. :)
355. Charmaine said:
I was also really worried about half-way through the story! We put a chip in our dog recently because we've gotten into the habit of taking her collar off while she's inside. Sometimes I worry so much that if someone broke into our house or mistakenly let her out, or the fence gate blew open in a gale, she wouldn't find her way hom. Which is why I was very happy to learn that the animal control agent in town requires that the vet scans all the dogs she picks up. Anyways, glad he's home safe and sound.
Your illustrations reminded me a bit of the scenarios that Amelie plays out in her head in the movie.
356. Heather Edwards said:
Aww! So glad you found your furry wonder.
357. Krystl said:
You know, I have a spiral, too. Two, actually. One is called The Question Factory--that's the one that cannot stop exploring depressing possibilities. The other one is what my boyfriend refers to as The Shame Spiral--that's the one wherein I feel guilty about negative feelings. (e.g., I get after myself for getting irritated with someone.)
The Question Factory has been mercifully quiet lately (Yay, Wellbutrin!), but The Shame Spiral has stuck around. The funny thing is that every now and then, the Shame Spiral has me so beaten down that I can't fight my own negativity anymore. I tell myself that I'm just going to feel these negative feelings because there's nothing I can do about it, and it's always at that exact point that they evaporate. For a while a least.
358. Mish said:
I dont have a child, but i had a wolf/husky/lab mix that escaped at every available chance. Once I found her at a concert at an island FIVE MILES UPSTREAM. She stank like smelly fish but i was so happy to see her. There was another time when I think someone stole her. When they let her out in their yard they must have taken her collar off and she ran straight home. Though it was winter i left my window and of course my gate open. At 6am i heard barking but gloomingly looked out the window only to see the white curly tail - my MISHA! She had run straight home because did i mention she was part homing pigeon also? She must have a few while she was on the streets before i found her for the first time. RIP my baby girl Misha. Though I now have a beautiful husky Jackson (who is MUCH better behaved than you ever were) and a rat terrier mix (those were one of your favorite to play with), and I know you are turning over in your beloved ashes abouy this - TWO CATS! But you will ALWAYS have a special place in my heart and i will love you FOREVER my beautiful baby girl.
359. Muffy Wong said:
Not only was this a touching, entertaining and, by the end of it, relief of a post to read... but the picture of Chuck at the end? PERFECT.
Scary, though, that they couldn't scan the chip! Glad he's back safe and sound. Do you ever wish he could talk?!?!?
360. fred said:
i could not even read the whole post... i had to go to the end just to be sure you found him! so glad.
361. joolieblue said:
I am so incredibly happy for your family that the pup is back home. Sounds like he had a marvelous time while you were in agony. It's a lot like parenting a teenager. May Lena never stay out past her curfew. It feels very much the same way waiting for them to come home!
By the way, I don't want December to come, because I LOVE Chuck's picture in the Princess Leia wig. It makes me giggle every time I see it!
362. theOlster said:
Man thats great news. The bit about you controlling your spiraling out of control... Oh and Chuck being found.
363. leahbee said:
I too suffer from irrational worrying and worst-case-scenario-itis.
In high school every time I had an exam or paper, the trajectory of my life would look like this:
I am going to get a B on the paper, this will bring my grade average down to a B, I will not get into a good college, I will never have money or be happy, I will die alone in a gutter.
364. danika said:
I have tears sliding down my face. TEARS, Heather. As I was reading, I realized that my lungs were screaming for air -- since I was holding my breath -- so I had to scroll down to the end of the entry and make sure that he was okay, before I could take a deep breath and continue. My God, I'm so glad he's back.
And now I have the urge to go toss back a shot in Chuck's honor. Welcome home, Chuck.
365. libby said:
That was a tough one, Heather: I, too, was tearing up and had to read faster and faster to make sure Chuck was home. Phew. Cheers...
...and, yeah, letting go is a gigantic helpful concept that I'd like to posit is applicable to the religious and non-religious alike. To wit: some of the Christian persuasion liken it to "I'm gonna let it lay where Jesus flung it" while Buddhists would just smile in agreement to just about any suggestion of letting any thing go.
I speak from experience: I found myself gritting my teeth so tightly just a few hours ago while reviewing the news of the day from Iraq. Very difficult, very sad. And not a whole lot that gritting my teeth will do to improve it.
366. Deserie said:
You scared me lady. I would have been almost as heartbroken as if it were my own dog had he not turned up. Every Friday I say "You know what day it is? It's Congressman Chuck Day!" and my husband shakes his head at how I'm a bloody dog stalker.
367. Amy LeBlanc said:
i don't think anyone's referenced this yet, but have you seen the cover of Time this week?
"Why We Worry About the Wrong Things..."
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1562978,00.html
and yay for finding chuck. don't feel bad - at least you've never put your hamster in the plastic ball and then forgot about it and left the door open and it rolled down the stairs and outside and into the street, never to be seen again.
368. AmandaR. said:
I just want to let you know that I am a Nascar fan. And also a democrat. I know, I know, it is so hard to believe but we really do exist. I swear to 6lb 7oz Baby Jesus.
369. Sapphireblue said:
So glad that sweet Chuck is home. I know all too well the panic feeling of Lost Dog. Never had to go to bed without them home, thank god, but for a few weeks there right after they discovered they could jump the fence, they'd both run off together sometimes twice a day. I never stopped thinking the worst. I never stopped bargaining with God about how good I'd be if I could just have my dogs back. And hey, I'm an atheist.