Today's Post Is Guest Authored By Glamis Crandall - a Letter to Mae Kelly

Dear Mae,

I want to begin this letter first, and foremost, admitting that I just got out of bed. It's 10 p.m. on Friday night and I have been sleeping since I got home from searching for you this morning. Bryan said I had permission to pen these thoughts because, well, he's sipping bourbon, missing Chitunga, Abu, and Lossine, and on his laptop being a nerd (what else is new).

Yes, I slept all day Friday and this will post Saturday morning. Sleeping is a ritual after visiting the vet and although I love Ken and Stephanie Preli at Companion Hospital, I'm not a fan of having having shots or getting my nails done. Bryan has procrastinated  appointments for over 2 months because he knows how traumatized and neurotic I get.

I have to say, I was good yesterday morning (for me, at least). I got in the car and out of the car excited to see you in the office and to do laps with you, licking your face, nudging your ears, and all-around being in your presence. You weren't there, however, and I sensed from the nervous energy of office staff and Bryan that something was up. I picked up (I have good ears) that you had been missing again and that Stephanie would be late and not able to calm my nerves, make me feel at ease, and gently let me know that Companion Hospital is another home for me. She was out looking for you. I later overheard Bryan saying that he knew you ran away sometime around 5 p.m. on Thursday, but he didn't want to stress me out and didn't tell me. Rather, he knew that when he got to Companion, his real mission was to trade places with Stephanie so he could join Patrick on the search (one that Ken and Pam did the night before).

I have to say something right here (and I'm making a formal request that Stephanie and Patrick read you my letter from top to bottom). You are a lucky Biotch. I don't cuss much, but you really are. I'm a lucky Biotch, too, and belong to a son of a Butch (not biotch) Crandall. This is why I know another biotch when I see one. You were the first arrival in a new generation of pupper-doos. You arrived and hung out a lot in Up in Smoke, before Jake found Pam from the trash heaps of New Haven and I arrived on Mt. Pleasant from S. Carolina via Philadelphia to be a present for Chitunga. You brought magic to the world at a time of sadness when Buddy and Bella crossed their rainbow bridge. It was hard times in Monroe, but then suddenly you, then Jake, and then I appeared. It was like canine Nirvana. This, of course, was before Patrick went on a blind date with Stephanie (and her dog, Colby...I hope I spelled that right) and suddenly this incest-ual Fairfield University/GSEAP connection occurred. Suddenly, Bryan found himself in a crazy magnetic force of Pam, Ken, Rona & Companion Hospital (you should know, we all think it is your fault).

Fast forward, rewind, replay, DVR-it, look for the reviews, and check out Twitter. You ran away again and I need to ask you, "What's up with you? Don't you know you live in Utopia with Stephanie and Patrick? YOU EVEN HAVE A CAT NAMED GLUE! COME ON NOW!  Take that in. YOU HAVE A CAT NAMED GLUE!"

To the right, you'll see a photograph of Lossine, me, and Bryan (before you moved from Monroe and when you spent a summer gnawing away at window panels, running away right before crazy-ass storms). For a season, Abu, Lossine, Chitunga, Patrick, Pam & Kaitlyn, had to spend many days and evenings looking for you because you decided that barometer pressures were too much (Thunder Shirts were not enough) and the love of Patrick, Kaitlyn, Pam, and Jake weren't enough for you. So, you chewed through windows so you could run with the deer and create panic in the hearts of everyone (Ms. Janet Passowanker, a resident of Monroe, is still talking to her friends about the days when she saw a woman (Pam) driving around town with a kid (Abu), only to see the same kid (Lossine) in the passenger of a green car named Hulk (Bryan as driver). It threw everyone in Monroe upside down and, to be honest, this is before Get Out. People in Monroe didn't know they could make a horror flick.

So, it's been a while (over a year) and you...YOU...YOU decided it would be a great idea to run away once again, but this time from your new condo in Milford, despite the fact that Patrick has the flu, Stephanie and Ken have an office to run, and Bryan, Rona, & Pam are getting ready for a new semester.

I need to say something, "You're my best friend and there's nothing I love more than running laps with you chewing on your ear and/or walking with you at Seaside, on Walnut Beach, or on the side streets of Stratford." It's like Laverne and Shirley, except that reference doesn't work so great in the 21st century, and Thelma and Louise is old-school, too. You're like my (insert some strong female character here) with my (insert another female character here)."

First, I want you to know how #@$@#$@ lucky we feel that before the fog got too crazy and before the rain poured for hours, we happened to be on the street 9 miles from Companion Hospital and who knows how many miles from your home that was the SAME street that someone reported a sighting. Bryan immediately tapped his inner-episode of cops and drove 90 mph through a residential neighborhood to the chagrin of stay-at-home moms. Note: he slammed his breaks and left skid marks when he saw Patrick, also searching for you walking up a hill, when he screamed, "Get in the car, you lousy #$##@ #$#$@ @#$#. Stephanie just called and said Mae-Mae was seen somewhere on this street."

I was in the back seat, post being traumatized by shots and trimmed toenails, flipping around like a hockey puck in the back seat while Bryan and Patrick played Dukes of Hazard. They were on the correct street, but on the opposite side of the neighborhood.

It was absolutely miraculous - the work of The Great Whatever (and many many prayers) - that a person called Companion Hospital at the same time Bryan and Patrick were driving the streets of Miflord (my fur-brained head is evidence of this. I hate the car, yet I put up with catapulting in the backseat to look for my best friend who was missing!).

Did I mention that before the quest began, I put on my best behavior at Companion Hospital and allowed your mommy's dad, Ken, work on my nails> You know how I get. I only allow Stephanie to do my nails --- only Stephanie! But, I sensed something odd was going on, Stephanie wasn't there, Bryan was talking cryptic and when Ken showed in the office, I decided to take one for the team. I handled the examination well and tried my best to be comfortable with the shots and nail trimming. I put my paws out graciously (without tranquilizer) and let Ken cut my nails. I only whimpered throughout two paws, sucking my bottom lip and channeling a supermodel awaiting a stylist and new hairdo. Yes, I make odd Chewbacca noises...I always make odd Chewbacca noises, but my whole appointment only took 15 minutes. I behaved really decent for me. I was good to go, and when Stephanie arrived, hugged Bryan, and said, "It's your turn to find Mae," I knew we were heading for Cannonball Run.

All of this is to say, "That is why I slept all day." I was traumatized because we didn't know we'd find you. You caused Pam to go home to Friday-afternoon martinis, Stephanie to question her entire profession, and Bryan and Patrick to thank the Great Whatever that bourbon exists. Ha. And poor Ken. He had to do my nails!

Here's where I need to get preachy and obnoxious, though. What the @$#@@ were you thinking? This is getting old. @#$#@ you, Mae. You can't keep doing this to us.

We are not as young as we used to be. We have a great life of biscuits, owners, and phenomenal vets at Companion Hospital. No, we're not emotional dogs like Jake's been labeled (he just likes to get spoiled by Pam and all her colleagues at FU), but we have a great life. Why are you running away, Maie? You need to chill and see that you have a magical life. You're one of the lucky ones.

Okay, that's my nasty remarks, and now I will simply say how glad I am that you made it into the arms of Stephanie and Patrick once again (you owe them several licks). Okay, you owe them a vacation, new cars, a lifetime of financial security, and the opportunity to star in at least one major motion picture).

I'm glad you're home....

...but enough.

We love you, we appreciate you, and we want you to cut out this nonsense.

I'm signing off with a picture of me when I first arrived to Mt. Pleasant. You were a little older, but you mentored me and taught me how incredible life is with tossed squeaky toys, bowls of water, doggie treats and the occasional sip of beer (well, I still haven't had a taste, but Patrick has always favored you and Jake).

All of this is to say that we love your neurotic, spazz-a-ga-zoink canine ass, and we can't take any more of your running away (especially on days when I'm getting my nails clipped and shots). Enough is enough.

I look forward to the Spring, walks, and hopefully a few corn-hole tournaments in the summer of 2018 with you. But you need to chill out with this running away thing. You're better than this and I totally believe in you.

Elephant Shoe,

Glamis Marie Crandall

PS: Want to do a sleepover sometime soon? Bryan says bring Stephanie and Patrick and try to see if Abu, Lossine, and Chitunga will visit from Syracuse. He also says that Basil Hayden is the bomb.

PSS: Jake doesn't run away from Pam. You can learn from him.

PSSS: Bryan is in awe with what Ken and Stephanie do on a daily basis with their practice. Kudos to the staff and all the customers that made your rescue possible.

PSSS: I've been up for an hour and I think it's time for bed. This fog is stupid.

PSSSS: Rona has the best parties.

PSSSSS: Goodnight.