Have Toby, Will Travel
Besotted, bewildered, bawling woman is reunited with her unrepentant pooch. He is absolutely fine apart from being a lot scared and a little breathless. She is still crying, but now in relief.
Have you ever wanted to be a heroine from one of your favourite books? I always saw myself as Jane Eyre: pragmatic, stoic, capable. Imagine my shock when I realised I am actually Twilight‘s Bella Swan, the girl who never stops crying.
White Van Man offered me a lift but we were five minutes from home as the crow flies (fifteen minutes as the drip walks), so I refused his kind offer. White Van Woman, however – who could have been Jane Eyre because she didn’t take any nonsense – insisted on driving Toby and me home. Her name is Christine and she didn’t mind the interruptions as I talked over her yet again (it seems my manners disappear in emergencies). I first phoned Pam with the good news and then took a call – to my great surprise – from the Hub, who seemed to know all about our adventure.
Christine dropped me and an excited Toby – I’m in a car! I can see out of the window! Why isn’t it open so I can surf? – at home and I opened the door and fell, sobbing, into the Hub’s reassuring arms.
I love coincidences. Do you? How’s this for a coincidence? I had left the Hub asleep in bed when we went out for our walk. About twenty minutes later he was woken by a nice woman named Doreen, who asked if he had two small dogs and if so, his wife had collapsed at the Pyramid roundabout.
Turns out that Doreen used to live just up the road from us and Doreen’s daughter had been in the traffic and seen Toby running through the cars and what she thought was me collapsing (I went down fast, hard and face-first). Luckily, she recognised me even though we have never met – worryingly, from the back (or, more accurately, from the bottom up); I hope it is mostly because she knows the dogs.
Doreen’s daughter phoned her Mum and asked her to drive to our house to tell the Hub what had happened. I found all of this out later when she returned to check on us. Doreen even posted a message on Facebook about a lost Yorkie. I am so grateful. What kind and thoughtful people.
The Hub, half asleep and scrambling for socks, decided to look for Toby. He didn’t know about all of the people helping me but he did know I was with Pam and therefore not alone. He also knew that I would climb out of the hospital bed it was possible I might be in and kill him if he came to see me before finding my dog.
The Hub could be Jane Eyre as well. Everyone could except for Miss Sobsalot here.
Pam arrived then with Molly, and we all exchanged stories in the kitchen, while the Hub made tea to aid our recovery. I’m pretty sure that at one point I said, ‘Excuse me,’ to Pam, and dropped my trousers. I wanted to show my wounds to the Hub.
The Hub disinfected my knees and elbow (I only discovered the scrape on my left thigh later on) and fed me paracetamol and ibuprofen, because my left arm from hand to shoulder was extremely sore. He only became concerned when I couldn’t eat a biscuit: he has never known me turn down food in thirty years, come childbirth or illness, apart from one nasty, four-day bout of gastroenteritis.
A day on the couch, a hearty lunch (including the rejected biscuit), some strong painkillers, wonder that the whole incident had lasted no more than twenty minutes (it seemed like three days; it must seem so to you, as well) and reflections on the immense kindness of strangers, and I was soon back to my normal self.
Which is just as well, because Toby wants a walk…