I was known, once upon a time, to have said that you can’t love a dog. Kate likes to occasionally throw this in my face when I tell Casey that she’s the cutest dog ever and I love her. I tell Kate it’s special doggy-love that isn’t the same as people-love, but I don’t think I’m off the hook.

We spent the past week in Davis, WV hanging out with my family. It was fun, and I really enjoyed spending the time with my rents and siblings. But Saturday morning was a fiasco as we tried to leave. Between packing, cleaning, and my parents’ minivan dying, tensions were running a bit high. So when Kate came out with the dog and she *poof* disappeared, it was NOT GOOD.

Kate and I had, earlier in the week, had a casual discussion about letting Casey off the leash on a few of our hikes. I, being the more conservative party, wouldn’t take her off the leash when walking her. Kate, being a bit more bold (and confident Casey wouldn’t run away), let her run to her heart’s content. Having seen Kate’s success with the dog off the leash, I followed suit and let Casey run a bit when I was the leash-holder.

So needless to say, when Kate let the dog out, without a leash, and she *poof* disappeared, there were many things running through my head. Not the least of which was I KNEW WE SHOULDN’T LET THAT STUPID DOG OFF THE LEASH.

We spent five or ten minutes walking around the house (which is HIGH on a mountain, and DEEP in the woods) calling for Casey in various tones of voice. Happy, angry, lighthearted-come-and-we’ll-be-best-buds-forever, you name it and we tried it. I had visions of walking around for the next 3 days with a doggy search party in order to find my lost pooch. With panic rising in my chest, I used the ultimate in my doggy-retrieval repertoire. At the top of my voice I shouted “Casey, want a chewy?!?!”.

And Casey, God bless her, magically *poof* appeared from the mystical place to which she had gone. My parents van. That’s right, my lovable adopted dog was so afraid of being abandoned, she decided to make sure she would get home, one way or the other, and had snuck into my parents van. There were muddy footprints on my mother’s pillows to prove it.

So the disaster was averted, and I’m afraid that Kate now has further ammunition in her “You can TOO love a dog” argument. Blast.