The week was going fairly smooth until Roscoe decided to break out of the apartment. I was doing laundry, which is in the basement of our building, while Eli slept, and he must have slipped through the door unnoticed behind me. I came back upstairs and fixed myself lunch and did a couple things around the house. I went to give the dogs a treat and noticed Roscoe was nowhere to be found. I quickly put two-and-two together and realized he must be in the basement, so I walk into the stairwell and start to yell his name. Well, the German neighbor comes out and asks if I'm missing my dog. I assume she has him, so I excitedly tell her that I am missing my dog! She replies, "Oh I let him outside and he run far away!" Holy shit, I could have punched this woman in the face ... but extreme panic had already set in. I ran in the apartment, put Eli in his car seat and attempted to drive through the neighborhood - shouting Roscoe's name out the window. After a few minutes I decided this was the worst plan ever - there was too much ground to cover, I had no idea where to start, and even if I spotted him I wouldn't be able to leave the baby in the car while I chased his dumbass down the street. I went home and called the vet on post, who informed me that most dogs usually run for the gates and he's probably on the economy and I would need to alert the Military and German police. Now I am even more hysterical ... I'm picturing Roscoe running through the streets of Germany hiding from some hardcore German dog-catcher. I immediately decided to call Vic, who was in the field and therefore completely helpless. I was a blubbering mess and could barely even get out what had happened. Vic asked if I wanted him to try to come home, but I could just imagine him going up to his sergeant and saying that he wanted to go home because his dog was missing ... haha, not exactly and full-scale emergency. I got off the phone with him and decided to call the military police. I got in touch with someone quickly and started to explain the situation when he interrupted me and said, "building 537 ... a woman called and she has had him for an hour." He was alive!!! I put Eli in the car seat once again and set out to rescue Roscoe. He was hanging out in officer housing with a nice lady who had two other dogs ... I would have talked to her more, but I was still crying uncontrollably at this point. Lesson learned, I need to be more careful when doing laundry and I definitely won't be asking the German neighbor to dog sit.
Elliott had his two-week check-up and he is doing great! He has grown and inch and put on the right amount of weight. I'm not a huge fan of his doctor ... he's very serious and monotone, not what I would expect out of a pediatrician. During the exam he was rolling Eli over, and the kid farted the loudest fart ever for at least 30 seconds straight, and the doctor didn't even crack a smile!! I don't care who you are ... farts are ALWAYS funny. Anyway, Eli did have to get two shots and his heel pricked and he did great ... lots of crying, of course, but he calmed down quickly.
Here are some more pictures ... again, nothing too exciting because he doesn't do too much. I can't wait until our stuff gets here and he has his swing and bouncy seat to play in ...
This is my favorite picture yet! I was making him try on hats and this was his reaction ... love it.
More of Eli and his 24-7 guard dog ...
Another one from bath time ... you can't tell from this picture, but he really does love the bath.
This coming weekend is Fasching in Germany. From what I can gather, it is a mix between Mardi Gras and Halloween. Apparently it is a time to let off steam and celebrate before Lent begins. There are all kinds of parades and festivals going on, so we are going to try to catch some of the festivities going on in town and also check out the city of Bamberg. Hopefully we have some fun pictures and stories for next week's blog!
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