The World According To Me

So Lucy ran away again. AGAIN. This time she broke our specially modified fence to do so, yesterday morning. Pom went home for lunch and she had gone, so I went home for lunch too, and spent half an hour driving around the neighbouring streets, hoping she recognised the sound of my car (I know she does) and would come home, which she didn't. Pom went for a run around the lake to see if she'd gone there, but with no luck. I was actually relieved at that, because she would have had to cross two major roads.

Lucy has run away so many times now that I don't have a breakdown about it anymore, I just pray that she doesn't get skittled by a car and wait for her to come home. She's too timid to go and find a new home, be picked up by a passing stranger or be caught by the ranger, so getting hit by a car is pretty much her only hazard. The first few times she fled I cried continuously, rang my mum, rang the pound, rang every vet in town, but just stopped short at putting an announcement on the community radio. And she would always come home, maybe after a few hours, maybe after a few days, smelling funky (and I mean FUNKY) thirsty, sooky and hungry too. She would stand outside my bedroom window and whine to be let in, then spend hours wanting to be patted and cuddled and giving me apologetic licks on the hand.

This morning just after we awoke and realised that we hadn't been woken at an ungodly hour by Lucy heralding her return, Pom opened the front door and did a cursory whistle. And she was there. She trotted inside, came into the bedroom and gave me a sniff, ignored my "Oh Bella, you're home! Come here and have a cuddle", waited to be let outside the back door, had a bit of a drink, sniffed her food, and then sat down on the lawn and yawned.

I was gutted.

She wasn't excited to be home. She wasn't trying to climb on my lap as though she were a puppy again. She didn't want cuddles, or affection, or anything.

She wasn't sorry.

She was all "Yeah, I've been out. Don't ask me where I've been, I'm not telling. Just had a run around the streets of Shepparton, sniffed some stuff, did wees EVERYWHERE, made friends with a couple of strays and now I'm back. Anything to eat?"

I feel like I'm the mother of a wayward teenager right now.

But I'm glad she's home and she's safe.