Monday, September 15, 2008


I have always been a little on the anxious side. I would worry sometimes coming home that my dog had somehow jumped or burrowed under the fence and gotten out. I worried if I saw smoke. I would panic if I couldn't get ahold of my husband and thought he should be home. Coming home to your neighborhood on fire and sending your husband in to get the dog doesn't make that anxiety lesser.

We left the dog in tonight. I worry about him getting out through the fence at this house. We are too close to a main road. I spent much of the night quietly nervous about what would happen if there were another fire. I have to believe that no one goes through this twice in one month, but it doesn't matter. I still worry that I will come home to ashes. We saw two fire trucks on the way home, so I worried that it was a sign. Of course we pulled up and the house was standing, and the dog was waiting happily inside... having eaten all of the cat's food.

No comments:

Post a Comment