Aside from the dramatic episodes I’ve shared with you, you know “Baby Daddy Drama” and such, the third trimester of my pregnancy had been relatively uneventful. I go to work, I come home and Ben greets me with a happy dance that makes him look like he’s hopping. Then Ben and I go for a walk in the woods next to the apartment complex, I keep a leash on him at all times (waiting for us to scare up something and for him to decide to take off like a shot) but he seems happiest to walk right next to me with the leash slack. After his walk, we have dinner and then I curl up on the sofa with a book, movie, or TV show and relax. (Before bed Ben gets another shorter walk.) Sometimes there are dinner or outing with friends, sometimes errands, but for the most part – life is quiet and life is good.

I mention this because the other day when I came home, Ben did not meet me at the door. I called him, as I took the leash down and he didn’t come.  My heart started racing and the baby started moving restlessly. I found Ben in the bedroom, his long greyhound snout had what looked like dried slobber on it and his eyes were wide with fear. When I called him, he came to me but as soon as I tried to touch his nose he ran away from me into the corner. I panicked.

I grabbed Ben’s collar and snapped the leash on and we headed for the car. I made it to the vet in record time and when Ben and I burst through the door, either the sight of the wild eyed dog or the heaving pregnant woman caused them to immediately take Ben to the back. I stood there, holding on to the counter breathing deeply.

“Ma’am, it’ll be fine, don’t get too worked up.” the receptionist said in a soothing voice and I could tell she was worried I was going to have my baby right there at the reception desk.

Ben was back before I knew it, and the Vet Tech was smiling. She put a piece of off white plastic in my hand.

“This was stuck in the roof of his mouth, I suspect when you get home you’ll find something chewed on that wasn’t one of his dog toys.” She said smiling.

The piece of plastic looked suspiciously like the rod from my blinds when I said that the vet tech started laughing with me.

On the ride home, with a very tired greyhound stretched across the backseat, I was happy that for that moment that was all the drama life had thrown my way for the moment. Oh sure, I could handle crazy ladies in the book store, and birthfathers who want to change the adoption plan but it was nice to not have to.

2 Responses to “And now for something completely different”