Every Sunday should start with a good cry.
I lost Murphy this morning. For a span of 20 minutes, I was a complete sobbing wreck.
I made a donut run for everyone and it was while we were sitting around the table eatting ((not me, no GF donuts, dammit) when I noticed that for the first time in almost a month, the house was silent except for smacking and gulping. No Murphy.
I was petrified that he'd gotten out alone while I was gone. We tossed the house, squeking his favorite toys, we searched the yard, under the vehicles and the basement window wells, no Murphy. The Man and Princess took off through the neighborhood on foot. Duchess and I continued to search through the silent house, one room at a time.
I found him finally asleep, behind my couch, behind the curtain in front of the AC floor vent.
The little shit.
Now I have a headache.
Thank God.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Sunday Cry
