I let the dog out yesterday, at about 5:00 pm, to do his business and run about a bit. He knows his "territory" and our back yard is pretty big, so he hangs around the house (and the neighbour's house, where his sister lives). After letting him out, I thought to myself, "I hope I don't forget him outside.", (because, you know, distracted woman that I am... I'm always forgetting something), and continued down the stairs to the basement.
Fast forward two hours or so, I am rushing around the house, getting coats on kids, and finding shoes so that we can go and pick up Marc at the bus stop. I open the front door, and there is Toby, sitting on the stoop, staring patiently at the doorway. For some reason, the expression on his face, which resembled something between patronizing patience with some irresponsible younger child and contained exasperation, struck me as really funny, and I just laughed and laughed. If he had been able to roll his eyes, I'm sure he would have, as he walked past the hysterical madwoman and through the open door.
(Said dog is now waiting patiently by the basement window, outside, through which he has percieved me, writing at the computer. I think he's ready to come in again?)