877. Dog – gone

I haven’t written for awhile because every time I sit down to do it something happens in the world that seems more important than whatever I was going to say.

For example, Liz has been home for a few weeks and the other night I had a dinner party with Steph and Terry and Liz and David.

David was his usual pain. Since he insists that I’m the worst cook in the world (whenever he eats at my house he brings his own food), he wanted to know exactly what I was making. Only Liz’s threats kept him from bringing his own BLT with him.

As always Liz was wonderful, Steph was Steph and my sweet Terry brought me a watering system for my newly fixed up terrace.

I was going to write loads of clever things said over our (superb) meal but then Justin Bieber put his tushy on instagram and Ben and Jen broke up.

Like anyone cares what I have to say after that.

STOP THE PRESSES

I just had a trauma.

When Liz is in town we usually leave our doors open. It used to be so Rupert could walk back and forth and now for Ray to do it.

I had just cleaned my kitchen from my dinner two nights ago and was rewarding myself by watching “The Real Housewives of NY”.

Ray was over with Liz.

I knew that when she left she would put him in my house and close my door.

I am planning on picking up Violet in about an hour.

I walked into my living room and noticed my door was closed so I thought I’d tell Ray that he could come with me to pick up the kid.

Unfortunately he was nowhere to be found.

I looked everywhere. I even went to Liz’s house to see if she had left him there by mistake.

No Ray.

I know I’ve been critical of Ray of late what with him liking everyone better than me but I was by no means through with him.

I was looking everywhere. I was in a panic. I knew that even if I didn’t find him I couldn’t be late to pick up Violet.

Then I noticed the fire stairs were open and one of the workers, George, in my building heard me calling. He ran down the stairs looking for my dog.

I’ll cut to the chase. He was on the 12th floor. I live on 18.

Did I give him a stern talking to? You bet I did, especially when George got in the elevator and Ray followed him (that dog doesn’t give one shit about me)

Did I take away his hall privileges? You know it.

Did I kiss him and kiss him?

Maybe.

10 thoughts on “877. Dog – gone

  1. What Mattie wrote about dinner was inaccurate and unfair. I actually complemented her on the chicken, not to mention helping myself to seconds. I won’t be repeating either of those mistakes. I didn’t bother to read the balance of the blog. Sorry

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