I saw the movie Poltergeist when I was eight years old, scared the ever-living bejeezus out of me. I’m sure there are scarier movies out there, but hey, I was eight. I don’t think I slept for three days. And the part that has stayed with me is that line above, especially since I now live in a new community. Before being built up, this area was a gun club, no idea what it was before that. An old Indian burial ground perhaps? Lots of mines in this area, is my house over an old abandoned mine where miners died? Is our house in the center of the Bermuda Triangle of Colorado?
Because I’m convinced my house is haunted.
Little things disappear around here. Once I was on the floor cutting out and mounting a bunch of wood-mounted stamps. I never moved, yet one of my wood blocks disappeared. My SU! rep said I was probably missing the block all along, but I swear I had it. My mom was here doing needlepoint and her needle just vanished. I’ll be getting ready in the morning, look for some of my makeup and can’t find it, look away, look back and there it is. That happened in my scrap room the other day; I was using a needle to poke through paper. I put it down, did something else, and could.not.find.the.needle. Found it hours later, just sitting on top of my work surface, all smug and laughing at me.
But now it’s serious.
Buddy is missing.
This is serious. Traumatic even.
Buddy is J’s lovey.
Those of you who are parents know the value of a well-loved lovey. Silence at naptime and bedtime. Boo-boos quickly and easily over. A built-in playmate. Puppy has been everywhere with A and is still his best bud. I wisely found and purchased a back-up Puppy long ago.
I have no back-up Buddy.
Poor J cried for over an hour last night, as I desperately tore the house apart. He finally fell asleep, but when I went in to check on him before I went to sleep, he sat bolt upright in bed and whimpered, “Buddy?” It’s been heartbreaking around here. He’s about to go down for a nap, and we’ll go through the whole thing again.
I have torn this house apart all morning. Cleaned A’s room, cleaned the basement (no mean feat), lifted up furniture, the whole shebang. No Buddy. So I can only assume my house is the Portal to the Fourth Dimension.
I’m open to suggestions as to where this damn doggie might be, but I can pretty much guarantee I’ve looked there at least once.