The Search

It was two thirty this morning when I had finally completed my appointed tasks at the desk. The days work was ready to be posted and the prior days work had been sent to the customers. Hearing a scratch at the front door I grudgingly arose to allow access to the small misfit creating the racket.

In runs our poodle, Mindy, who is busy trying to avoid her 9-week old puppies and their razor sharp little teeth. She has managed to escape the confines of the kennel and has been hiding out in the house all evening. Mindy looks so much like her sister Cindy that at a glance you cannot discern the difference.

As Mindy pounced on the bed and set herself up for a session of licking her feet and whatever else she might desire, We immediately recognized the fact that this was not the poodle that was supposed to be sharing our warm and cozy little house. A cursory search of the house did not produce her pregnant sibling who was now in her 63rd day of her pregnancy term. Drat!

So off to the kennel with Mindy under one arm, thoughts about children being confused and putting the wrong dog in the kennel and freeing her sister were swimming through my brain. But what is this, Cindy was not in the kennel. Searching thoroughly throughout the kennel I found no sign of the now presumed missing precious little pregnant mother.

Carefully, picking and choosing each step across the sharp gravel drive in bare feet. Wincing each time the unyielding rock attempted to puncture the soft skin as the now seemingly treacherous path was traveled to the back door. Opening the door I began to call out woefully for my missing little friend.

Amy replied that she had seen her not long before and had actually sat on the couch with Cindy just prior to letting her out into the yard to wonder. No, it could not have been, she must have thought that Mindy was Cindy. So it was that we armed our selves with intent and began a thorough search of our abode.

First into Stephen's room, normally a dangerous undertaking at night, rife with dangers such as legos and other unidentifiable objects. But we are now on a mission to find a lost and suffering little animal, so on with the lights to enable a better view of the pre-teens little den. Calling and whistling, searching in the closet and under the bed, the result was nil. Not even a trace of our missing little roommate.

Thence it was to Jamie' room, where the search was again carried out without regard to the sleeping body on the top of the bunk beds. Still no sign of our friend and anxiety and despair are beginning to raise their ugly heads. Oh woe is me, she is lost, all alone and pregnant.

Having searched each closet, drawer, nook, cranny and each minute location of the house, we have now become panic stricken. Dawning moccasins and armed with a flashlight, off into the darkest recesses of the estate we proceed to continue our now frantic search for the missing precious mom. Nightmarish thoughts swim through my brain as visions of her torn mangled body and her young pups devoured by ravaging predators begin to dance through the now confused gray matter. What if? What about? Oh Noooooooooooooooooo!

Quickly now, having searched the entire yard and all imaginable hiding places, it is time to retrieve the keys to the “Beast” and begin widening our search area. On the way out the door I run into our young teenage daughter, standing in the way, and gawking in sleepy wonder at the carnage, which has now overtaken our once peaceful and sleepy little home. Rubbing her eyes she asks what is the matter and having been answered assumes a position on the front porch, from which she meekly calls out “Cindy”, in a voice that is usually reserved for the church pew when the preacher is delivering his sermon.

Inserting the key, a quick twist, and the “Beast” comes to life. It's monstrous groans and bright illuminations guiding us through the pasture to the wood to continue the search. Armed with a spotlight, Amy seeks the view of reflecting eyes, the telltale sign that there is an animal present. Four-wheel drive engaged, bouncing hazardously across the rough terrain, small mesquite, cedar and holly trees become things of the past. Frantic to find our missing adorable pet, we will allow nothing to stand in our way. A trip around the pasture and woods, through the creek, across the cactus and back to our son's tree fort produces no results of elation.

Saddened and dejected, we turn our transport back toward the house, traveling slowly homeward. All of a sudden Amy shouts, “What is that?” There perched on the remnants of an old abandoned car, nestled deep in the woods, two eyes shine out their amber glow. The spot light beams out to the creature and we gaze upon our missing tom-cat, mister “Killer”, who has frozen in his tracks at the bright obnoxious glare blinding his vision in this dark and dangerous night.

Slowly picking my way through the briars and tangles, approaching with the stealth of a wild bull and the grace of a fumbling fool, the creature is swept into my arms and I hastily return to our transport, which has been sitting, unmoved and purring as it awaited instructions for the next leg of our journey. Amy accepts Killer the Kat, and there is a slight look of fear in her eyes as we begin moving again and Killer threatens to dig deeply into her flesh with his sharp claws to grasp more purchase upon the surface he now perches.

Ah, we found Killer. How wonderful. But where is our poodle. What ever could have happened to our precious little K-9 mama? A slow and quiet trip back across the pasture to the house and we are once again sitting in a stew of bewilderment.

Grabbing the flashlight, I once again set out on a journey through the yard, out the front gate and a quick look up and down our country road. No Cindy to be seen. Time to call off the search and retire to the kitchen where the idea of a hot cup of coffee beckons to my confused and weary brain. Anger and despair set in. Amy's is exhausted and heads for bed. I fix my cup of coffee and go to the bedroom to retrieve something from our closet.

As I reach up and flip the wall switch for the closet light, the slightest movement catches the corner of my eye. Investigating, moving shoes out of the way and lifting the long dress from its hanging position near the floor, a new and wonderful sight fills my eyes. There in the corner, hidden in solitude and resting peacefully is the mother poodle with her five new pups.

A quick look at the pups to make sure all were ok, and off with the light so that our friend could get some peace and quiet during the wee hours of the morning. Off I stumble to the chair with my coffee and intensions of watching the news before awakening the children for school. I'm still not sure of the current events being broadcast on the television, because moments later I drifted off into a deep sleep, only to be awakened an hour later by the children as they prepared for school. What a night!


	The Search It was two thirty this morning when I had finally completed my appointed tasks at the desk. The days work was ready to be posted and the prior days work had been sent to the customers. Hearing a scratch at the front door I grudgingly arose to allow access to the small misfit creating the racket. In runs our poodle, Mindy, who is busy trying to avoid her 9-week old puppies and their razor sharp little teeth. She has managed to escape the confines of the kennel and has been hiding out in the house all evening. Mindy looks so much like her sister Cindy that at a glance you cannot discern the difference. As Mindy pounced on the bed and set herself up for a session of licking her feet and whatever else she might desire, We immediately recognized the fact that this was not the poodle that was supposed to be sharing our warm and cozy little house. A cursory search of the house did not produce her pregnant sibling who was now in her 63rd day of her pregnancy term. Drat! So off to the kennel with Mindy under one arm, thoughts about children being confused and putting the wrong dog in the kennel and freeing her sister were swimming through my brain. But what is this, Cindy was not in the kennel. Searching thoroughly throughout the kennel I found no sign of the now presumed missing precious little pregnant mother. Carefully, picking and choosing each step across the sharp gravel drive in bare feet. Wincing each time the unyielding rock attempted to puncture the soft skin as the now seemingly treacherous path was traveled to the back door. Opening the door I began to call out woefully for my missing little friend. Amy replied that she had seen her not long before and had actually sat on the couch with Cindy just prior to letting her out into the yard to wonder. No, it could not have been, she must have thought that Mindy was Cindy. So it was that we armed our selves with intent and began a thorough search of our abode. First into Stephen's room, normally a dangerous undertaking at night, rife with dangers such as legos and other unidentifiable objects. But we are now on a mission to find a lost and suffering little animal, so on with the lights to enable a better view of the pre-teens little den. Calling and whistling, searching in the closet and under the bed, the result was nil. Not even a trace of our missing little roommate. Thence it was to Jamie' room, where the search was again carried out without regard to the sleeping body on the top of the bunk beds. Still no sign of our friend and anxiety and despair are beginning to raise their ugly heads. Oh woe is me, she is lost, all alone and pregnant. Having searched each closet, drawer, nook, cranny and each minute location of the house, we have now become panic stricken. Dawning moccasins and armed with a flashlight, off into the darkest recesses of the estate we proceed to continue our now frantic search for the missing precious mom. Nightmarish thoughts swim through my brain as visions of her torn mangled body and her young pups devoured by ravaging predators begin to dance through the now confused gray matter. What if? What about? Oh Noooooooooooooooooo! Quickly now, having searched the entire yard and all imaginable hiding places, it is time to retrieve the keys to the “Beast” and begin widening our search area. On the way out the door I run into our young teenage daughter, standing in the way, and gawking in sleepy wonder at the carnage, which has now overtaken our once peaceful and sleepy little home. Rubbing her eyes she asks what is the matter and having been answered assumes a position on the front porch, from which she meekly calls out “Cindy”, in a voice that is usually reserved for the church pew when the preacher is delivering his sermon. Inserting the key, a quick twist, and the “Beast” comes to life. It's monstrous groans and bright illuminations guiding us through the pasture to the wood to continue the search. Armed with a spotlight, Amy seeks the view of reflecting eyes, the telltale sign that there is an animal present. Four-wheel drive engaged, bouncing hazardously across the rough terrain, small mesquite, cedar and holly trees become things of the past. Frantic to find our missing adorable pet, we will allow nothing to stand in our way. A trip around the pasture and woods, through the creek, across the cactus and back to our son's tree fort produces no results of elation. Saddened and dejected, we turn our transport back toward the house, traveling slowly homeward. All of a sudden Amy shouts, “What is that?” There perched on the remnants of an old abandoned car, nestled deep in the woods, two eyes shine out their amber glow. The spot light beams out to the creature and we gaze upon our missing tom-cat, mister “Killer”, who has frozen in his tracks at the bright obnoxious glare blinding his vision in this dark and dangerous night. Slowly picking my way through the briars and tangles, approaching with the stealth of a wild bull and the grace of a fumbling fool, the creature is swept into my arms and I hastily return to our transport, which has been sitting, unmoved and purring as it awaited instructions for the next leg of our journey. Amy accepts Killer the Kat, and there is a slight look of fear in her eyes as we begin moving again and Killer threatens to dig deeply into her flesh with his sharp claws to grasp more purchase upon the surface he now perches. Ah, we found Killer. How wonderful. But where is our poodle. What ever could have happened to our precious little K-9 mama? A slow and quiet trip back across the pasture to the house and we are once again sitting in a stew of bewilderment. Grabbing the flashlight, I once again set out on a journey through the yard, out the front gate and a quick look up and down our country road. No Cindy to be seen. Time to call off the search and retire to the kitchen where the idea of a hot cup of coffee beckons to my confused and weary brain. Anger and despair set in. Amy's is exhausted and heads for bed. I fix my cup of coffee and go to the bedroom to retrieve something from our closet. As I reach up and flip the wall switch for the closet light, the slightest movement catches the corner of my eye. Investigating, moving shoes out of the way and lifting the long dress from its hanging position near the floor, a new and wonderful sight fills my eyes. There in the corner, hidden in solitude and resting peacefully is the mother poodle with her five new pups. A quick look at the pups to make sure all were ok, and off with the light so that our friend could get some peace and quiet during the wee hours of the morning. Off I stumble to the chair with my coffee and intensions of watching the news before awakening the children for school. I'm still not sure of the current events being broadcast on the television, because moments later I drifted off into a deep sleep, only to be awakened an hour later by the children as they prepared for school. What a night! Abram H. Hall ã Copyright 2002 HOME