I knew she had left Singapore safely... but since that had happened 5 days ago no trace, nor hide, nor hair of her had been seen...
I was in an extra panic today, because 6 year old Little Miss P was not there to distract me with play and demands, safely ensconced as she was with her grandmother today.
Just as I entered the tracking number for the 3,567th time sound of the dog's paws frantically scrabbling for traction on the slippery laminate floor caught my attention.
Such Scooby-esque running style could be evidence of only one thing... the postman!
* * * * *
I tried to beat the determined Jack Russel to the door and failed, as I always do.
But yes, it was definitely the postie and he was definitely carrying a suspiciously Moof sized package!
I stashed the yapping terror... scratch that... terrier, and flung open the door to be casually handed a jiffy bag containing lumpy silence.
* * * * * *
Pausing only to take a quick snapshot to commemorate the moment (a picture I cannot share as my camera batteries predictably chose that moment to give up) I ripped open the package.
Here is what I found...
Apparently she was hibernating...
After a little encouragement her eyelids fluttered open and her gaze met mine...
An unspoken understanding passed between us and we both knew that everything was going to be okay.
Then... she made a hat... from bubble wrap.
She is Etta...
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