The first post after a long break is always the hardest. Staring at the fish tank isn’t going to organize my thoughts, nor is it going to write the blog for me. I had done so well, until disaster struck. It’s been since June 6, and if I tried to tell you all that has happened over the past month, you wouldn’t believe me. So here is the catch-up plan: I’ll give you a quick break down of what has been happening in my life, and afterwards I’ll tell you a funny story, so stay tuned.
My Life: A Breakdown
Because I really think I’m superhuman, I took 3 graduate classes in the last summer session. Haha. Guess what I learned? I am not superhuman, just ridiculously devoted. I finished out the semester today, and boy does it feel good. Oh, and I did it with my GPA still intact.
Job hunt is still in process. If you know anyone who can help me out up here in NWA, let me know. =)
I moved my life to Northwest Arkansas and moved in with my very generous in-laws. Nathan and I are on the job hunt, and let’s just say that I’m on a house hunt. Nathan seems to think we HAVE to have jobs first. Geeze he likes to put a damper on my fun.
That’s a basic breakdown of my life right now. I’ll fill in some of the gaps in the weeks to come. Now for the funny story.
At our family reunion Nathan and I learned a valuable lesson about our precious adopted Dakota. She is a huntress. Yes, that’s right, my goofy, sweet, slobbery Dakota is a huntress.
The morning sun was barely out and my eyes were half shut waiting for the coffee to brew. I made my cup and made my way to the front porch to enjoy the cup of life that I was about to enjoy. I sat my cup down and realized that the gate was open, and Dakota was not in my line of sight. I frantically close the gate to keep Willow in and jog after her.
The problem with Dakota is that she often doesn’t remember her name. After a loop around the neighboring houses, I get frantic. Tears begin to roll as I picture Dakota, alone in the woods living off of bugs and leaves. I run back to the house to get Nathan’s help. He comes outside and we walk together.
I am beyond clear thinking. “She doesn’t have a tag on her collar,” I think to myself. Tears start to roll down my cheeks. I’m visibly not okay now. I yell for her and yell for her. Nothing. Then I hear her bark from somewhere in the woods. I look and suddenly three deer (yes, three, not one) run from the forest closely followed by a barking Dakota.
We yell for her to stop, but the hunting horns are calling too loudly as Dakota pursues her prey…across a golf course at 7 in the morning. Yes, a golf course. On foot won’t work.
I run to my car and go out in search of her. I make several passes around the island, tears rolling, windows down so I can yell for her, but I have no voice. I picture her back in the pound, alone and sad. I see Willow looking out various windows waiting on her to come home. My mind is probably my biggest enemy in these situations.
As I’m driving through the streets where I last saw her in pursuit of the deer, I spot a speck of white. I quickly reverse and check it out. It is my Dakota. Tears still freely rolling I get out of the car and drag her to the back seat. No front seat for her.
And that is the end of the story. The tale of how we found out Dakota was a huntress.