A crazy day

I know that there is a lot of contention about the definition of "ironic."
I don't think Alanis Morisette had it quite right- it isn't ironic that it rains on your wedding day. I think, however, that as I struggle to come up with a plot for a fiction novel, these real-life events have happened in my life:

*Saturday, middle of the night- dog runs away.
*Sunday, I call police to report lost dog. I talk to Allison, a helpful dispatcher, who takes my report.
* Sunday- My husband's grandmother steps off a curb and falls face down into Highway 99, blacking both her eyes. She is on blood thinners, so she is a bloody mess.
*Monday, pre-dawn- Allison, the police dispatcher, calls me from her personal cell phone. She had been walking her dog and spotted Gus. She and I tried to coax him out of his lost-dog psychosis, but the crazy was strong in Gus. Allison called Darla, the dog catcher, who only scared Gus worse. He bolted.
spent the rest of Monday searching, searching.
We were planning on going to my Mom 's for a couple days pre-Thanksgiving, and then spending Thursday and Friday with Spencer's family. If Gus was still loose, we couldn't leave town.
* Tuesday, I get up before dawn, and head to where Allison and I had seen Gus the previous day. No sign of him. I was beginning to feel discouraged.
* Tuesday, about 1:00, a lady calls to say she and her mother had sighted Gus laying in a field. The lady was the mayor. So, Spencer and I head to the field, meet the mayor and ask Gus if he would like a ride home. At first, he says no thanks, I would like to go for a 2 mile jog. But then, he got tangled up in some blackberry briars. At that point, Spencer could get close enough for Gus to see through his panic... Gus recognized him and nearly knocked him over when he charged toward him. So that was good. Dog, home. Thanks to the mayor!
* So, now we need to get packed and ready to go to Naselle. Okay, check.
* We get on the freeway, and Spencer calls his mom's house to see if there is anything we can bring for Thanksgiving. This is kind of a formality, as we won't be home Wednseday to cook or go to the store. Maybe we can bring pop or something.
* But. Spencer's mom is on her way to the hospital with his adopted autistic 15 year-old brother,
who was walking to the library, when he saw an empty pop can across the street. Knowing that he could take the can to the store and trade it for a nickel, he (you know what's coming) darted out in front of an oncoming car and got hit. Thank God he only has a broken leg. He needs surgery, and he may be in the hospital until Thursday. So Surprise! Thanksgiving is at Spencer's moms, but I am cooking. Oh, and we aren't going to Naselle.

I'm kinda wishing I got my swine flu shot.