The History of Scout, part 6, "Bad Mom"

It was just a week after our trip to the University with Scout that we were planning to Go On Vacation. With younger son. But without Scout. The trip with Younger Son was an annual tradition. Every year we took a trip to somewhere of interest, usually places I had never been before. Because of Younger Stepson, I have been to Harrisburg and Nazareth, PA, to San Francisco and to Disney World/Universal Studios. We also made a trip to the Grand Canyon, although you can't say that I hadn't been there before. My family had stopped for about an hour on the way back from our unique car trip. But you can say I hadn't hiked part of the Bright Angel Trail before. This year's trip, shorter than some, was set for Philadelphia, another place I had never visited.

Husband was not willing to give up the annual trip because of a puppy. I, on the other hand, had mixed feelings. I felt that it was wrong to be gone during this important time in Scout's development. But I really wanted to go. We thought we had the perfect solution when Husband's other son, The One who Loves Dogs, offered to stay at our house and, along with his girlfriend, take care of Scout. They both came over one night and got instructions, along with the really long e-mail diagnosis and treatment from the behavioral vet. Everything seemed set.

There were just two complications. 1) The day we were leaving was the day Scout was set to make her last visit to the vet, get her splint checked and possibly get her cast off (remember the broken leg)? One of them thought they could do this. I would call the vet later and pay for the damage over the phone. 2) In order to get the very most out of a short vacation, we were scheduled to leave early in the morning. Very early. 4:00 a.m. to be exact. Father-in-law was set to pick us up and Stepson Who Loves Dogs was set to arrive at about 6:30, to do the morning routine. Girlfriend would come a little later and take Scout to the vet.

I did not anticipate how I would feel about leaving my dog in a kennel, in the dark, at 4:00 a.m., trusting that people would show up to care for her. I did trust them. I really did. But I felt really guilty, like I was doing something Wrong. How could I leave my baby alone, even just for a couple of hours? What if stepson and girlfriend forgot? Would the neighbors call the police? (you see how my brain was spiralling out of control.)

By the time we landed in Philadelphia, I had a terrible headache. It was also 98 in the shade that day, and, even at 9:00 in the morning, it was unpleasant. I wasn't having a good time yet. All I wanted to know is that Scout was safely at the vet. But it was earlier in Minneapolis, so I would have to put up with uncertainty for a few hours.

We dropped our bags off at the hotel (where it was actually too early to check in) and started to look around. We found a little cafe for breakfast. Stood in a long line to look at the Liberty Bell (which was fascinating, and ended up giving me much food for thought for a later sermon). We wandered around with me in a partially bad mood much of the time.

Finally, it was late enough to call home.

Everything was okay. And Scout got her pink bandages off! She was free! Maybe everything would be all right after all.

To be continued....
Visiting the Dog People,
Dog Park Days