Yesterday morning, when The Husband let Roscoe out for a potty break, Roscoe decided to go to his home across the road. The Husband followed him over there and let Roscoe in the house, and then The Husband began searching for the zapper, the remote control for Roscoe's "training collar." Son #2 had left it on the kitchen counter. The Husband and I had both seen it there when we'd kenneled Roscoe the previous night, but it was not on the counter yesterday morning.
I'd been there earlier that morning and had considered bringing the zapper home when I brought Roscoe to our house. When The Husband called to ask if I'd moved the zapper, I could not remember if I'd picked it up. I scanned the convenient "drop-off" surfaces at our house but didn't find it. Thus began a day-long search for the zapper.
I tore our house apart several times, retraced every step I'd made during the day. I repeated the process at Son #2's house. The Husband was looking, too. We could not find it. It was baffling.
Then I saw the cat, Duffy, sprawled in a chair. I said to The Husband, "I bet Duffy knows where it is. He probably knocked it off the counter and batted it until it went under some piece of furniture." Duffy was not forthcoming with any information. We moved couches and chairs, and looked under anything with legs tall enough to accommodate the zapper.
Nothing.
Finally, we resolved ourselves to buying Roscoe another collar and zapper.
Late in the afternoon, The Husband texted Son #2 to confess that we'd lost the zapper but would get another one. "That's okay. We seldom use it," #2 said. Then a few minutes later, we got a text from our daughter-in-law. Her mother had taken their other two dogs, Sarge and Ollie, to her house while #2's family was gone, and sometime between the time I went to get Roscoe that morning and the time he took himself back home, she'd let herself in #2's house and had taken the zapper to use on Sarge (who would not stop gnawing at a hot spot).
I busted out laughing.
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