Home Alone

I don't know what it's like to leave a child with a babysitter for the first time or to drop a child off at school on the first day. But today, I left my dog home alone, uncrated and free to roam through half of my house.

As a good dog mom, I feel it's almost my duty to over-worry. From the moment I descended the 22 steps from my second floor abode and walked out the front door, I worried. My fears ranged from small and easy to dismiss to insanely irrational and cause to return home immediately.

What if she got into the blanket basket? Well what's the worst thing that could happen? She could drag blankets all over the house. Or she could get tangled in all of those blankets and suffocate.

What if she spends the entire day sitting in the window sill barking at passers by? That might drive my neighbors a little crazy, I guess. But what if she jumps out the window? My dog has no sense that we're on the second floor and I know dogs who have escaped through a simple window screen.

What if she pulls the plants down to the floor or chews up the carpet or gets on the kitchen table? What if she catches her collar on something and hangs herself? OH MY GOD, I SHOULD HAVE TAKEN HER COLLAR OFF.

At the end of the work day, I sped home through traffic, certain I would pull up to the front of my house and find a busted window screen or, at the very least, dog poop all over the place. Hurriedly, I slammed my car door and rushed up to the house. Cautiously, I opened the door and walked upstairs.

"Where's my puppy?" I said cheerfully.

Lazily, my puppy looked up at me from the couch. She stood up, stretched from tip to toes and sauntered up to me. My house was intact and my dog was well rested.

Tomorrow, I am sure that I will be as much of a nervous wreck as I was today. I mean, what if she chews through a cord or gets up on the kitchen counter and knocks over the jars or somehow gets into the cleaning closet?