Ogden Nash once said, "A door is what a dog is
perpetually on the wrong side of." For me this became what I was
perpetually on the wrong side of.
One evening, I left my office in a rush and also left my
house key behind. I was an hour away, sitting in a Wal-Mart parking lot
when I realized my dilemma. I called the Englishman who was working out
of town. I had two options according to him: drive a two hour round
trip at 9 o'clock at night to retrieve my keys or see if one of the windows in
the house was open. I tried the windows first with no luck and then I
proceeded to my own plan: the dog door.
During one of the renovations, we added a dog door. We
were dubious that Chase could fit through it even though the door was
supposedly the largest size. He had no problems with the door but I
wasn't so sure that I could fit through it. Abby exited the door and
stared at me, hopeful for a treat. I removed my coat and placed my cell
phone through the door and inside the house. I really hoped that I
wouldn't get stuck and need to call 911. I lay on my side and stretched
my bottom arm through the narrow opening and launched myself inside with my
other arm. I was halfway in and wished my arm was three feet longer so I
could reach the door knob. I was suddenly attacked by wet dog kisses on
my face and Abby was on the outside trying to force herself into the opening
with me. Quickly, I flipped on my back and gracefully pushed myself along
the tile floor like a back stroke Olympian. I was inside! Proud of
myself, albeit a bit bruised, I called the Englishman and told him of my
success. I vowed to hide a key outside the house but procrastination is
my middle name.
