To the person who left a note on my dog today:

I know it seems that tying a dog up to a bike for 4 hours is not the best choice, but you really shouldn't judge if you don't know the whole story. 

Approximately 30 hours ago, 10 (yes ten!!!) construction workers descended on our home.  They were there for a 3 day intensive to insulate our attic and replace our furnace that broke 2 months ago - a task we've been trying to have done for 10 (yes ten!!!) months.  I assured the foreman that my dog was fine outside in our gated yard on the porch with her water when I vacated the house for the day.  I mean she stays out in the yard 3 days a week that way - rain or shine, and today was shine.  She even stayed that way through another month of construction workers sistering joists in the attic.  When we first moved into the house, she made a break for it by hoping the half fence to follow J on a bike ride, but its been a year since that incident.  I'm certain she's fine.

Well, needless to say I underestimated both my dog and the ability of 10 people to ignore said dog walking out the front gate. 

But the dog didn't go far.  The tavern 4 addresses down called me before lunch to say the Humane Society gave them this number for a collie that had wandered in.  (Note to self, I really need to prioritize getting an updated collar for the dog).  "I'll be there in 15 minutes" I say as I head back to my house of chaos.  After stopping by the house to get her leash and noting the chaos is even worse than I had anticipated 3 hours earlier, I walk 4 doors down to collect my dog where they ask me if I washed her last night - she is so soft and beautiful apparently.  I keep to myself that she hasn't been washed since I was 7 months pregnant and has only been brushed once in the last 10 weeks even if it would likely cut down on the amount of sweeping I would need to do.

Into the car my dog goes.  I was going to go visit a friend's shop, but what do I do now with my afternoon?  I end up going to a park and sit under shade with my 2 month old and runaway dog while I wait for the end of my 4-year old's preschool day.  Then I drive to said preschool, park under the shade of a large tree since dog cannot come into the school, collect my child, and drive home to throw dinner together. 

Four hours later, I fall into bed exhausted from my day of vagabond life - praying that the baby will at least sleep for another 3 hours.

Another hour later, my husband awakens me.  "I think the cat is stuck in the ceiling." 

"What?"  Did I hear that  right?  Is this really the scenario my anxious brain is making up for dreams?  I know my PPD is worsening - I can't imagine why - but really?

"That sound we heard when we thought M was getting out of bed.... it is the cat.  She is meowing now and I'm pretty sure she is stuck in the ceiling."

"Are you KIDDING me!?!@"

15 minutes later, I'm back in my bed - wide awake - having located the joist in which the dumb cat had fled in the earlier chaos, J having located a sharp box cutter to cut out the foamed in airblock to said joist and retrieve said cat, and locked the cat in the half bathroom - the only room in the house with a door that doesn't have some sort of construction happening in it over then following 2 days.

7 hours and 4 feedings later, we are are scrambling to try and get breakfast in everyone - probably the only reasonably healthy or homemade meal for the day - before the workers arrive.

"What are we going to do with the dog today?" J asks.

"I don't know," I say.  "I've promised M I'll take him to the science museum when it opens in 2.5 hours.  What I'll do until then, I don't know.  But I can't leave the dog in the car there because there is no shade in that parking lot and you know how people are.  I guess I'll put her in the 3rd bedroom."


Note for the purposes of this story that the 3rd bedroom is currently functioning as a toy and clothes repository since all closets are emptied for said work.  Plus the closet door doesn't shut all the way and actually backs against the stairwell where half of this work is taking place.

"She is going to chew my toys!!" shrieks M.

"I'm running early enough that I could I ride her <running along the bike the 5 miles> to school with me, but I don't think she would make it home," says J.

"Well, if you'll take her with you and tie her up to your locked bike - it is in the shade right?"

"right"

"then I'll pick her up at lunch after the museum.  You better take her water dish and a water bottle... you know how people get."

And THAT, my friend, is how the dog ended up tied up for OVER. 3. HOURS as your note laced with profanities kindly informed us.... in the shade with a high of 78 degrees..... with water.... with her owner checking in with her during his 10 minute break half way through 4 hours of teaching.  

So believe it, or not, the tied up dog was the beset possible choice in this situation that is our life.  And in the future, unless the dog visibly shows signs of distress, go home and watch this clip and give the owners a break.