The other day I was in my studio, at my computer, catching up on emails and whatnot, everything that had gone neglected while my husband and I were on holiday. I heard a strange noise, as did Tilda, and she proceeded to have one of her big barking freak outs. We stepped out into the hallway, heard nothing more, and then parted ways. I went back to my desk, Tilda went wandering.

I then heard another strange noise.

So I went back out into the hallway and called for Tilda.

Nothing.

I looked in our bedroom, and through the rest of the upstairs. Noting. I went downstairs, and looked in all of her usual hangout spots. Nothing. I shook her jar of treats. Nothing. I went to her dog food, and poured some into her ceramic dog dish – which creates a sound that never fails to make her run like mad downstairs. Nothing.

But wait ~ a bark! But it sounds strange, like it is far in the distance.

I look around some more. Nothing. And then another bark! Again in the distance!

Now I’m getting freaked out. What the hell is going on?

I call my husband: “Hi. Something weird is going on here.”

Him: “What is it?”

Me: “Well, I heard a strange noise, and Tilda freaked out. Then she wandered off, and I heard another strange noise, and now I can’t find her anywhere.”

Him:  “You can’t find her?”

Me: “No! But I heard her bark a few times!”

I then proceed to make him stay on the phone with me while I walk through the house one more time, until ~ tada! ~ I find the door to a guest bedroom bathroom closed, and as soon as I open it, out pops Tilda as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Later, when we met for lunch ~

Him: “What did you think? That there was someone in the house holding Tilda hostage, who was going to jump out and getcha?”

Me: “Yes! That’s exactly what I thought!”

Because why gloss over the truth, when it is so much easier to openly admit your paranoid delusions.