An unexpected moment of still and quiet.
The air whirs and the ice maker hisses.
The dog snores lightly at my feet.

“She’s missing. I don’t know what happened.
I had the door cracked and now I can’t find her.”
The dog, not my child, thankfully.

Leaving the kids behind with my dad,
I rush to find her.
She, who would love nothing more than to run free on a farm,
But somehow ended up with us-
The non-runners, the non-multi-acre owners.

As I drive to her, I realize that she’s old.
My Maggie, my beloved bulldog.
The one that Marshall hates,
And Jesse loves.
My first “baby” is old.
And I hope she is ok.

“Maaaaaagieeeeee!”
Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaggieeeeeeeeee!”
I drive around and call for her,
And after a while go home defeated.

She’ll come back.
She always comes back.
Doesn’t she?

All I can do now is wait.
I sit down, open up my laptop,
And stare blankly out the window.

She is old.
I know she won’t be around forever.
She drives me insane sometimes,
But I love her.
And my throat catches…
Because she’s missing.
And she’s mine.
And what if…

The what ifs always get me.

“She’s just a dog,”
I tell myself.
“She’s just a dog.”

But she’s not just a dog.
She’s my dog.

“Aaaauuuggghhhhnnnnngggggffff”

That’s her!
That’s my Mags!
My weird-noise makin’ Mags.

“AAAAaaunnnnnnnngggggggnnnnn”

I hear her, but where is she???
In the baby’s room??

Tucked and stuck under the bed.

“Hey, girl.
Come on out.
That’s right.
Good girl.”

So now…
dog found,
I sit down and catch my breath.

An unexpected moment of still and quiet.
The air whirs and the ice maker hisses.
The dog snores lightly at my feet.

An unexpected moment when my hormone-riddled self finds tears prickling my eyes.
I hope she knows how much I love her.
I know that sounds silly because she is, after all, just a dog.

But she’s not just a dog.
She’s my dog.
And I’m glad she’s snoring lightly at my feet.