If you live in Murfreesboro, you know what was going on with the weather between 11 and 1 today…huge, high winds,  massive thunderstorm, heavy rains.  I missed all of it.  When I ducked into SportsCom at 10 minutes til 11, the winds were gusty, trash was blowing all about; I knew the system was coming, but I wasn’t sure of when.  I was in the pool by 11, shooting for a 3/4 mile swim, which I did in about 32 minutes.  It was a great workout, I felt strong the entire time, and it was as fast as I’ve ever done that distance.  Afterward I got out, went straight to the shower and was headed out the door by about 12:30.  The storm had obviously come and gone:  there was debris everywhere, big puddles of water, but the sun was actually trying to peek out. 

One of the girls who works for me called to say the weather was a big concern for her to drive from Manchester to Murfreesboro for our bimonthly staff meeting, so it must have been hitting that city right at that time.  We decided to change the meeting til tomorrow, I called the rest of the staff to let them know, then with that change in plans, I headed back to the house to regroup.

Now you remember from yesterday the adventure I had with Miss Uga and her vanishing act.  Today I get home, Uga is there waiting for me…we’ve had sheetrock work done recently in the garage and it was left open about 2 feet to keep air circulating so the mud could dry, and that’s where she came waddling out from when I drove up.  However…no Boo.  Now you need to know that as great as Boo is, she is a big, fat chicken when it comes to thunderstorms.  Last year on a bike ride in Iowa she slipped her collar during a fireworks display and had to be sprung from the pokey the following day.  When we’re all home we just let her in the house and she cowers under the table until it’s passed, but when we’re gone she manages to hide in the shed or garage.  Not today.  No Boo.  I call and whistle, I call the neighbors, I drive up and down the road.  No Boo.

I call Jesse in Detroit – like he’s going to be able to do anything from there; he thinks she’ll turn up soon.  I wait a bit, go to work, come back home near dark…still no Boo.  I drive the road again, calling and whistling, no Boo.  I call the pound (by now it’s “after hours” and the recording tells me that they do not handle lost pet calls over the phone; I’ll have to go there tomorrow morning and look for her).  I’m not panicked, but I don’t like the idea of her not sleeping in her spot on my bed tonight.

Around 9:00, Fez (my college student/renter/neighbor/third son) calls…what a surprise…she’s at his house.  He owns her daughter Nala, and the two of them hang together (Boo and Nala) all the time.  I drive the car across the cow pasture, bring her home, she runs into my room, onto my bed, which is where she is right now.

So today’s entry is another lost dog story…haven’t lost a dog in years, then we have three “misadventure” in one week.  Not directly related to triathlon training, but infinitely more interesting than:  “…and then I swam down the length of the pool, then turned around and swam back, then I swam down the length of the pool, then turned around and swam back…”

Favorite random song today:  Paradise by the Dashboard Lights, Meatloaf

Thanks for reading.