Chapter 1 the gates (A True Story)

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Shortly after 3:30 p.m. on Sunday the 18th of February 2018, little did I know how my life was about to change forever.

 A Sunny Sunday with My Dogs

I had spent the morning in my garden with my five babies: George, Steve, Kev, Peter, and Jeremy, plus with my friend Claudia's dogs Blu and Romeo, whom I was dog-sitting for. It was a glorious sunny day and extremely warm for February.

Sunday was always my favorite day of the week, and on this particular Sunday, I had decided not to even bother getting dressed. Truth be told, I had actually had too many glasses of wine the night before, and I was feeling particularly lazy and lethargic. I was quite happy, though, just sitting and watching all of the dogs while continuously throwing the ring for Key. Peter, Jeremy, and Blu were running around like lunatics, Romeo was sitting on my lap, Steve was under his blanket in the dog bed outside, and my George was in a mood, sitting inside the house in his bed.

George's Unique Personality

You see, my George was particularly moody that day as Blu and Romeo had been with us now since the previous Saturday, so we were now on day 9 of dog-sitting. I actually think that George was starting to worry that Blu and Romeo had moved in with us forever.

George came into my life in 2008. I had spent many hours on Google trying to find the perfect breed of dog that would suit my current working and living situation, and every bloody time, the word Chihuahua popped up. I had never owned my own dog before, and if my parents were alive today, they wouldn't believe that I now have 5 beautiful dogs. You see, for me, dog hair is a complete no-no, and just the thought of dog poop makes me retch, let alone the thought of actually picking it up; that could actually make my bum tweak and my eyes bleed at just the thought of it.

Yet there he was, my gorgeous George on Google. A Chihuahua that nobody wanted as he was a large Chihuahua. I had actually never seen a Chihuahua before, well, apart from on a cartoon, so what they meant by large, I didn't actually know. Yet on the day when I went to collect him, I was totally dumbfounded that he could actually be classed as large.

Oh... I loved him from the moment that I saw him, and from that moment, we became inseparable. George came to work with me; George went wherever I did, even to the Pub. George ate when I ate, and George slept with me every night. Most nights, George would go to bed before me, and he would often come and check on me to basically prod me and give me the eyes. "Hurry up. Are you coming to bed soon?" When I went to bed, George would hold me tight for just 10 minutes, then he would roll over, and he would want his own space, rather like a man LOL. George was so happy in the mornings, he would wake me up at the same time every day, first light. Our love was so tight that my daughter would often say, "Mum, you love George more than you do me.

"It was around 3 p.m., and all the dogs were now lazing around, and I noticed that Blu was actually dry. Blu is a chocolate Labrador, and for her, my garden is pure paradise as I have a swimming pool, and no matter what time of day it is or how cold it is, she would just have to take a dip. As much as I love Blu, I can't put into words the frustration when you are all ready to go to bed, and at that precise moment, she would plunge into the pool. So, spotting that Blu was actually dry and due to the fact that all the dogs were sleepy, I saw this as the perfect opportunity to go inside, curl up on the sofa, and have a well-deserved Sunday afternoon nap. Well... I was still feeling a little delicate.

As I whistled for all the dogs to go inside, I decided to make myself a cup of hot chocolate, a cup of hot chocolate that I never knew that I would never get to drink, only watch as it turned into a cup of grey, and then green furry mold.

So, all the dogs were now inside, and then I noticed that George was not in his bed. George was actually called moody George by my friends, and my daughter would actually call him moody George with great passion. Ok, so George was always moody, but that was his personality. Basically, he disliked all humans and any other dog that came to stay or lived with us. That's not exactly true, as George actually loved my brother Andrew.  

George always knew how to get his own way, and he knew if I couldn't see him or knew exactly where he was that I would worry. So, first, I checked my bed, no he wasn't there. I then checked the tree outside, no. So, because I was still feeling a tad delicate, I shouted, "Sausage." Ok, so now I was worried, not worried that he was missing as my complete garden is walled; however, I was worried that he may have had a heart attack as he has an enlarged heart. My heart actually started to beat a little faster as I whistled all the dogs to come and help me find George.

Due to the wall, my garden is extremely private, so walking around whistling for George only wearing my bucket pants, vest, and slightly tired black rubber shoes wasn't at all unfamiliar, yet with the 10,000 square meters of land that I had to walk around, this was rather daunting. The last place for me to check was the bottom field, and as soon as I hit the bottom step, I could see in the distance that the bottom gates were wide open.

Realization and Panic

My whistling stopped, I started to speed up the pace of my walk, and then without even realizing, I was running. I wasn't even aware that I could actually run. Yet, I was so fast that my heart was in overdrive, pumping blood so fast that I could actually hear every beat that it made.

Shit, all the dogs were with me, so I had to turn around and begin whistling again. Thank goodness all the dogs actually listened to me as I ordered them all into the house. As they all went inside, I then grabbed my keys and started running back down to the bottom gates. It wasn't until I had actually run through the gates and onto the track that I suddenly realized I was still wearing just my bucket pants, vest, and tired black rubber shoes. "SHIT." Then stronger words were flowing from my mouth as I began running yet again up to the house.

Calling for Help

It was pandemonium as I unlocked the door, as all of the dogs knew that something was wrong. I flew upstairs and grabbed the ropey pair of jeans lying on the bathroom floor that I had been wearing the day before while gardening. I was now somehow standing in the middle of the track, whistling and screaming "GEORGE." The feeling was like my complete insides had been strangled; it was like I was actually being squeezed. All of a sudden, I just lost all of my energy, and the words came out "N00000, he's gone." I looked left, I looked right, then I was shouting "HELP, please someone help me." The words were so loud in my head that I thought it was going to explode, then I realized I was alone, and the words became quieter and quieter. HELP, help, help…    

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