Last night I offered to watch my parents' dog while they go out of town for a few days. At 4 a.m. I began to rethink my plan.

I love pets, especially cats and dogs. I've grown up with family pets, and this little guy is one of them. Paco was a Christmas gift for my step-mom in 2000. He's an awesome dog. One of my all-time favorite family pets. He's half chihuahua and maltese, and has the sweetest personality.

So it seemed like a great idea to just bring him home, and let him stay with me for a few days. I thought our biggest hurdle would be my two kitties, Georgie and Tammy, who out-weigh him by a couple of pounds. The cats were surprisingly docile and mostly just avoided him.

My terror set in at 4 a.m. I got up to go to the bathroom and let Paco go potty. I realized that I waited a little too long, when I felt moisture on the rug. He had gone to the back door, and couldn't hold it any longer.

Since the backyard is fenced, I opened the door and let him out to hopefully do some more business in the grass. I left the door cracked open, and I put the rug in the washing machine.

When I peeked back outside, he wasn't there. I grabbed a coat and flashlight, and searched the backyard. I must have made five panicked laps around the yard. I looked under hedges and in flower beds. I just knew I would see his little white body hiding in the brush. Yet, no Paco.

After calling for him while making several laps around the yard, and probably waking up a few neighbors, the little guy was discovered across the street sniffing around in someone's open garage. He was on a great adventure and in no hurry to come back home.

Thankfully once inside he settled in and went back to sleep, unlike myself and the two cats. We were up for another hour. This morning his escape route was discovered, and he gets to the spend the day supervised by the boyfriend. If I'm lucky, we'll have less grand adventures this weekend.