Sometimes you wake at 530am, tip toe out of the bedroom and hush hush your way down the computer to log some work. At 630, you sneak back up to wake your husband. But he's not there. Hmmm.
You check the basement couch. Nope. Hmmm.
You see the dishwasher has not been run. Hmmm.
You see the dog is sleeping with a lit up collar, ON, and you think. Uh oh.
You start to hunt about in favourite places - the garage, the camping cupboard, the crawl space. Your heart is racing a bit now because it's waaaaay too late for the pub. He's fallen on a walk and is in a ditch. It's snowy outside, the dog came back alone and someone let him in thinking Glen was in the shower etc...
NOPE. He's just here. Snoring.
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