So tonight my delightful dog Buster decided I was taking too long to parallel park at the dog park, and jumped out the window while I was backing into a space on Silver Lake (for non-LAians, a fairly busy street where cars routinely go 60+).

I slammed on the brakes, threw open the passenger door, and SCREAMED his name, which thank the good fucking lord scared him enough to make him jump back inside the car, and I slammed the door shut and rolled up the window and my window, and then I just sat halfway into the parking space and tried not to have a heart attack.

For even more fun, Buster is a rescue with a history of abuse who scares easily, so I've always been very careful in how I speak to him, and when he got back into the car was the first time since the first week I adopted him that he reacted to me with fear. He didn't want to get back out of the car, and he cowered and whined when I tried to pet him, and it was just fucking awful.

He got over it relatively quickly—he started letting me pet him after a minute or two and then he happily went to the dog park, though he pointedly ignored me for the first five minutes or so (which actually made me pretty happy—I'll take mad over frightened any day of the week), but like an hour later my heart rate still hasn't gone back to normal. NO MORE ROLLING THE WINDOW DOWN EVER.