That Day We "Lost" Our Puppy.

 The first few weeks of having our puppy Winston was a complete whirlwind. We were running on little sleep and adrenaline was the only thing that kept us going. Much like having a newborn. A newborn that bites. We have so many hilarious newbie puppy parent stories from that first month, but this one takes the cake. 

I'm a person who does my research, so every article and forum I'd read on Welsh Terriers said to never let them out without a leash. They are game hunters by blood, so when they hear something, their instinct is to chase. I had engrained it in my kids to never let him out without a leash, even though he was a teeny puppy who never strayed more than a couple feet from our legs every time we let him out. 

We'd only had Winston for a three days. It was a cold January night and Darin was taking him out on the back porch to go potty. I was laying on the couch, and the boys were standing in the kitchen looking for a snack. It was dark out and I heard Darin say through the window, "boys, go get your shoes on!" I popped my head over the back of the couch and saw Darin bending over looking under the Blackstone. 

"Uh oh," I thought. I was absolutely paranoid of him sprinting off into the dark of the night. 

I said aloud, "did he lose Winston?"

Ezra dropped his glass, burst into tears and started screaming bloody murder. You'd have thought he lost a limb. He was paralyzed with fear and just stood there wailing. Levi did the opposite - he took off running. He sprinted out to the garage to grab his boots when heard a rustling over in the corner. 

Relieved, he ran over to the corner where he heard the stirring, bent down to pick him up, and said "Winston! Come here boy!" 

It was in this moment he was met face to face with an opossum. 

AN OPOSSUM. 

IN MY GARAGE.

AND LEVI ALMOST PICKED IT UP.

The opossum had wandered in and was stuck in a clear plastic box from Christmas that an RC truck had come in and once Levi locked eyes with the little rat face that was not his precious puppy's face, he bolted back inside half-freaked out and half-petrified that Winston was indeed, lost.

Darin came inside asking what the ruckus was - Ezra still sobbing, Levi white as a ghost from his marsupial encounter, and me barking out orders to save the dog.

"Where's Winston?! Did you lose him?!" I hollered.

"Huh? No. He's right here. He's super playful right now and I wanted the boys to come out and play with him. That's why I told them to grab their boots."

My paranoia read the situation entirely wrong which resulted in traumatizing one kid to the point of hysteria and had the other one within mere inches of cradling a beady-eyed critter of the night.

Ummm, oops. My bad.