Last night Chewy ran off on me. I was chatting away to the neighbor as he sat out the front waiting for me to take him to the park. I had forgotten to put the leash on him and he must have just thought, "Bugger you Mum, I can get there myself!"
He ran off so quickly I was in shock, as he never runs away from the front of the house. I left my keys on the letterbox and bolted after him. It didn't even occur to me that running at my size was not a good idea. I ran like I'd been running at the gym for months. Never mind the fact I am about 7kgs heavier or that my boobs are double the size of my head and that maternity bras have about as much support as a couple of freezer bags. Not to mention that fact it's probably not great for my baby to feel like she is in a washing machine or for my heart rate to skyrocket!
I can only imagine how this looked from an outsiders point of view. Humongous and clearly demented pregnant woman seen running after puppy whilst crying and calling out to him with the promise of treats. Hmmmm... lucky for me (but not for him) a young man saw me running down the street trying to bribe Chewy back into my control and failing dismally. After Chewy bolted across the road this guy called him over and Chewy ran up to him with glee and licked his face.
It was all too much for my highly charged hormones. I gratefully thanked the guy and my neighbour who had also turned up in his car to help me. I marched Chewy home in a huff telling him how angry and disappointed I was in him. I then shut him behind his puppy gate, sat in the loungeroom and cried and ate chocolate for 30 minutes while I composed myself.
Those good old hormones strike again...
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