I went to bed last night with Vegas in the kitchen sleeping, Rupert (my foster boy) napping on the sofa in the lounge, and Ozzie snuggled up with me upstairs.
Charlie has been on night shifts all week, so has been getting home and coming to bed at around 4am.
This morning at 7am I came downstairs with Ozzie, went into the kitchen, and Rupert was in there... I was surprised, as we don't put Rupert with the other two while he has his Buster collar on. But Vegas wasn't in there with him!
He wasn't in the lounge, in the hall, in the bathroom, in the larder in the kitchen, in the utility room, or in the muck room. Now I started to panic, I raced upstairs and he wasn't anywhere up there either, not in our bedroom, not under the bed, not locked in a wardrobe, nowhere.
By now I was really freaked out and starting to panic.
I figured I should look downstairs for him one last time before I called in the police, Scotland Yard, the FBI, CSI, private eyes and a selection of psychics - whomever was needed to find my boy, spare no expense... and this time, as I passed the back door, I saw a very lonely and scared little face staring back at me.
Charlie had put the dogs outside for a pee before he came up to bed, and in his nightshift sleepy fog, he had not counted them all again as they came inside
Poor Vegas, he must have been so cold and lonely and confused!! I still can't believe he didn't make a peep though, if it had been Ozzie who had been left outside he'd have kicked up a right royal fuss and everyone within a 3 miile radius would have heard! But little Google-butt just curled up on the doormat and waited for someone to remember him.
He's very "clingy" this morning, I think it must have knocked his confidence a little, so I hope I can snap him out of it before our gundog 1-2-1 lesson this morning!
Naughty Daddy!!!! :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil:
Charlie has been on night shifts all week, so has been getting home and coming to bed at around 4am.
This morning at 7am I came downstairs with Ozzie, went into the kitchen, and Rupert was in there... I was surprised, as we don't put Rupert with the other two while he has his Buster collar on. But Vegas wasn't in there with him!
He wasn't in the lounge, in the hall, in the bathroom, in the larder in the kitchen, in the utility room, or in the muck room. Now I started to panic, I raced upstairs and he wasn't anywhere up there either, not in our bedroom, not under the bed, not locked in a wardrobe, nowhere.
By now I was really freaked out and starting to panic.
I figured I should look downstairs for him one last time before I called in the police, Scotland Yard, the FBI, CSI, private eyes and a selection of psychics - whomever was needed to find my boy, spare no expense... and this time, as I passed the back door, I saw a very lonely and scared little face staring back at me.
Charlie had put the dogs outside for a pee before he came up to bed, and in his nightshift sleepy fog, he had not counted them all again as they came inside
He's very "clingy" this morning, I think it must have knocked his confidence a little, so I hope I can snap him out of it before our gundog 1-2-1 lesson this morning!
Naughty Daddy!!!! :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: