The royal poochies had vet appointments this morning. We arrived early, so hubby & I took the poochies for a quick walk before heading to the check-in counter. After struggling with two frightened canines, we were able to get them weighed and then walked around for a bit before heading into the exam room.
Or so I thought.
Hubby and the receptionist headed to the exam room. I was walking with both poochies on leashes toward them when Quixote’s leash fell out of my hand. I don’t know how it happened. It just did. He took off like a flash.
I dropped Panza’s leash (don’t know why I did it but it seemed like a good idea at the time) and he stayed behind me (I thought). I took off running after Quixote because I didn’t want him running out the door.
In the process of running after the pooch, I kicked off my sandals in order to run without worrying about twisting my ankle. Hubby told me later when he saw my sandals laying on the floor with no feet in them that he about started laughing because he thought I had run so fast that I’d run out of my shoes.
I DID catch Quixote just as he was about to run out the door … Panza was another story. I didn’t catch him, although I tried. Thankfully, hubby did. In the street in front of the door. Thank goodness it was still early enough that there was very light car traffic.
Those were the worst ten seconds of my life.