How to Torture Your Owner

Weather in Chicago has been decent for January. Came out of work to rain (and of course my umbrella was in the car). Drove home with a quick stop into Circuit City (ahh, that must be what confused the dog). I arrived home and went through the usual manuevers. Open garage, back car towards garage, straighten it out, back it in. It was all good. Close the garage door - and now at this point, I expect 187 pounds of romping, stomping, slobbery fun ready to greet me at the door. All 4 legs prancing in excitement, head swinging a stuffed toy at me. So I came in the house, no dog. Came up the stairs, no dog. Hmmm. House was dark. I was confused. Fear began to grip me. Did a child leave the dog outside? Was on the phone with my mom, talking as I turned on the lights. House was clean. This is a good sign. But no dog. NO DOG! I called his name repeatedly. And no pounding of happiness came towards me.

Then I found a trail of soft dog toys down the hallway. But, no dog. I called him repeatedly. The silence was agonizing. Walked in the bedroom, turned on the light. No dog. Found the cat blinking at me. All squinty eyed, saying Hey, turn off the light. Watcha thinking. Walked around the bed. And there I found THE DOG. No movement. Nothing - Nada. Called his name. Eyes closed, tongue all stuck out. Called him again - No response. Touched him, nothing moved. Then I started to freak out, (thinking, oh, no, you can't die on my watch) yelled and poked him and then he actually snorked and lifted his head up. I almost cried. I had to hang up with mom I was so upset. I really thought he was dead. He now acts as if nothing was actually wrong. I on the other hand, am about to have a nervous breakdown. I just can't be the one to tell hubby his beloved big mastiff has gone to the great beyond. So, I don't know if I have forgiven him yet. Tonite he is all happy. Has his dad and collection of bones. Shaking his head, nuzzling dad, just a very happy and contented mastiff. He is telling us he is ready for bed soon. (If we don't go to bed on time, he goes without us after nagging us a bit and being told to "GO LAY DOWN!) I just hope he is a long-lived mastiff. His muzzle is just starting to turn gray - we need a few more smelly slobby years out of him yet!