My no good, terrible, horrible, very bad, day

Just so you know, this story has a happy ending.

This already wasn't panning out to be my best 4th of July on record.  I'm less than a week out of surgery and still on crutches, which makes floating down the river, playing croquet, and pretty much anything other than sitting off limits.  Luckily I have some good friends that humored me and came over for a bbq.

And then it turns out the Philadelphia is less than ideally handicapped accessible (or whatever the correct PC term is) when it comes to dealing with large events.  That means that I had to hobble a ways in to lie on some grass for a partial view of the fireworks, still pretty okay. 

The no good, terrible, horrible, very bad part comes in when the fireworks start and Boris gets spooked.   Now, lest you think that I am a terrible person for bringing my dog to the fireworks show, I've been watching him very carefully over the past few days for his reaction to any loud noises, and believe you me, my neighborhood is not what you'd call "quiet".   After careful observation, he seemed to not be phased at all by any noises, so I thought we were safe.  Think again.

At first he hid in the bushes, which was kind of cute, but then he actually got out of his collar and took off.  Luckily I had some able bodied friends with me that were able to chase after him, but after the first few minutes I lost all hope…. I've seen how fast he runs at the dog park. 

We spent a solemn hour and a half trying to get out of the city, and I came home to send emails to all of the shelters and post and ad on craigslist (sidenote,  I think anyone, and I mean revwilliams76 specifically, that would use a situation like losing a dog to scam someone is despicable and not really all that intelligent). 

I followed up with all of the shelters this morning, but really didn't have all that much hope.   I prayed and I know my family and friends prayed, but Philadelphia is big and scary if you weigh 65 lbs and don't know English.   But, thanks to answered prayers and microchips, I got to pick Boris up at the animal shelter this evening. 

He's a little worse for wear, and I think the two of us make a pretty sad looking pair at the moment, but I'm still brimming over with joy.