Wait. What?

Today, I forgot to crate or tether Eska before I left the house at 9.45am. Of course, I only realised as much when she greeted me, 4 hours later, AT THE DOOR of my apartment.

My immediate thought was at least ten times worse than yours right now. Troy is coming over in a few hours to work on a massive translation. The house didn't reek of garbage, but that didn't mean anything, necessarily. I didn't want to walk into my room. I didn't. Fear of Consequence gripped and paralysed me and it took me a moment to move in any direction at all.

Eventually, I made my way around an apartment potentially more spotless than the way I left it. I looked everywhere for signs of urine, feces, blood, anything; I found nothing. She hadn't even bothered pulling one of my sweaters carelessly left lying around into her crate for a mid-morning snack.

What kind of a crazy girl is my girl? Is she depressed? I don't get it.

Once I recovered from the shock of her good behaviour, I took her out to pee, then hugged her for a minute and gave her a cookie.

I stopped by Howl on the way home to pick up food and a 6-tie, European-style MountainDog leash. I wasn't sure, at the time, that Eska deserved the rawhide pretzel I added to my order at the last minute. Now, I'm glad I did.