Brought to my knees


It finally happened last week. I was brought to my knees by a force more powerful than myself, my concern for a beloved pet.

I came to this realization when, all of a sudden, I found myself inside my dog’s kennel with her looking in.

It was not something I often do, but I was forced in the cage to repair it after an escape attempt.

I once again found myself at my dog’s mercy.

I swear, she was talking through her eyes, laughing at our exchange of circumstances. She nonverbally said, “How does it feel having bars around you restricting all your movement?”

It was exactly the same look I got a few years ago when I locked myself out of the house, with the dog inside. That little adventure resulted in my clamoring through a window.

In our latest incident, as I cleaned out the mess she made and reconnected her kennel, it occurred to me who is really in control of our little home in Harnett County.

In most homes the husband would admit their wives are in charge. I might admit she is in charge of me, but I think the dog is in charge of us both.

Otherwise, one of us wouldn’t get up in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm to take care of our four-legged friend.

For whatever reason, she is absolutely terrified of storms.

Imagine, if you will, what it was like for four nights in a row when our neighbors celebrated the Fourth of July. She is equally as terrified of fireworks. I am as patriotic as the next guy, but by July 7 this year, I had enough of the celebrations.

During the latest storm event, it was exactly 3:44 a.m. when she finally collapsed into her bed and I did the same, in my own bed of course. So far, I haven’t been designated to her sleeping space, but the day isn’t over.

If we don’t give in, in these situations, all of us will end up awake. If one of the parents takes her out, one of us can at least rest a little.

Some probably wonder why our dog has so much control. My wife said it is simply “because she is so cute.” I argue that defense is weak, yet I am the worst offender at spoiling the dog.

I would like to say she has never eaten off my plate, but the higher ups here at the paper prefer we not print mistruths.

This is not the first time Sadie has been in this space. I’m sure it won’t be the last. Despite public comments in this place, we love our friend. That love is the only thing that has kept us from an act that would have brought PETA activists to our home.

Tom Woerner is a reporter with The Daily Record. Reach him at 910-230-2038 or


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