The Stinkiest Kid Around

We got Ziggy in August 2001. Shortly thereafter, the 9/11 attacks rocked us to the core. I remember driving past the Pentagon on my way to work on that beautiful September morning and thinking of how much I enjoy my drive in to work...with my music, my Starbuck's coffee, a car I like to drive, and the beautiful GW Memorial Parkway. I was running a little late that day, after helping my son find some lost school work and dropping him off at school. Mine is not a long drive...probably 20-25 minutes from front door to office garage, not bad at all.

As I pulled into the parking garage in my building in DC, the guard asked me if I had heard about the "two cargo planes that crashed in New York." He didn't have any more information, and I had been listening to CDs instead of the radio, so I didn't know what he was talking about. So I parked and went into my office. When I turned on my computer to the home page, which was the New York Times, there was a photo of the first plane crashing into the first World Trade building. It was no cargo plane. Stunned, I called my husband, who told me all he knew and said he was trying to get more information. Suddenly, he said "Oh, my God, they've hit the Pentagon. We're at war." Overwhelmed with worry about my son, I said "I'm out of here! I'm going to get Thomas." Back then, I called my son "Thomas," before he became EO the elusive offspring, living his elusive life at university.

I shut off the computer and hurried to my car and got almost to the river before traffic stopped me. I was listening to the radio and watching all the people standing around outside with their cellphones to their ears and their faces to the beautiful skies, looking for the next plane. There were rumors that there were bombs at the State Department, and the World Bank, and that another plane was on its way. Driving along the Potomac, I could see not just black smoke, but huge orange flames over the Pentagon, well above the trees. It was a shocking experience. By the time I got to Teddy Roosevelt Bridge, it was full of cars, all leaving DC, and people were streaming across it on foot (the subways had been shut down). I did what so many other drivers were doing. I stopped and picked up as many people as I could take in my car and I drove them home. By the time I had done that, I realized that my son was probably safer at his school than anywhere. Later I found out that most of the students had gone to the library to watch the news and that most parents also left their kids at the school. Who would target a school, right? (Of course, we believed this before the DC sniper taught us otherwise.)

The world was eerily quiet when I got home after noon after delivering the people I had picked up. Ziggy was so happy to see me that early, but he sensed something was not quite right. The air traffic that usually goes down the Potomac and over my house was gone. The airports had been shut down. Every now and then a fighter jet flew overhead. Traffic noises were nil. The day was gorgeous. I had windows and doors open. I picked up my son and we sat with Ziggy on our wraparound porch and talked to neighbors making their way home. It would have been a perfect day but for the horror of the morning.

But this is not supposed to be about 9/11. It's supposed to be about Ziggy; it IS a dog blog, after all. And you are probably wondering why the title of this post is "The Stinkiest Kid Around." So, let me explain.

Shortly after 9/11, we started a major remodeling project on our hundred-year old house. We replaced trim on the outside and repainted all the German siding. We rebuilt the porch. And we turned the attic into a loft for our elusive offspring. Complete with full bath, two dormers, two roof windows, nice carpeting, and lots of room for stereo equipment, books, friends, you name it! Way more than any kid really deserves. But what the heck. Back then, he wasn't so elusive. When the contractors showed up, the not very aptly named Wolfie cat would slink upstairs and crawl under the sheets/blanket/bedspread on our bed and stay there from 7:00 a.m. until they left at 4:00 or 5:00. We always make the bed every morning, so it was very funny to see a lump in the middle of the bed, like some sort of deformity in the mattress. It didn't matter how warm it got, Wolfie stayed under the covers. Even in the winter, he stayed under the DOWN comforter. It's a good thing cats are really desert animals. Anyway, back to the dog part of this story. Ziggy, on the other hand, liked to greet the contractors when they came, and then he stayed downstairs in the back of the house. They all liked that dog. In fact, I think one of the guys would have taken him if he could have! But Ziggy was clearly our dog. And they were good to him.

I think I already mentioned that we don't have a fenced back yard. It was never a problem. Ziggy always came back when called, and if he started to go into a neighbor's back yard, I'd say "our yard, please," and he'd come back to me. But he was never let outside without one of us being close by.

One day, Ziggy got out. We think that when the new stove was delivered, one of the delivery guys let him out. Actually, we think someone kicked Ziggy or something because he didn't stick around the house. My son, who was in the 9th grade at the time, was at his high school about a mile away and, while changing classes with a friend, looked out the school window. "Hey!" says the friend, "doesn't that dog look a lot like Ziggy?" One look, and the elusive offspring says "It IS Ziggy!" And he went outside, called Zig, and walked him home and put him in the house. Then he called to tell me what had happened. I got weak at the knees at the thought of our car-stupid Ziggy crossing all those busy streets to get to my son's school. But then I had a different thought. Ziggy had never been to that school before. My son either rode his bike or walked to school when I didn't drive him. My thought came out as words: "Wow, you must be the stinkiest kid around!" Can't you just hear the "M-o-m" that brought on! But how else would Ziggy have found the school?

Anyway, we think someone kicked Ziggy because from that day on, he barked at everyone who came to the house, friend and foe alike. Well, actually, I don't think a foe ever came to the house. Or, if they did, I never knew about it, because they didn't stick around! What does a foe look like anyway?