What began as a simple family outing to adopt a rescue dog quickly turned into a night of panic, hidden secrets, and difficult truths. That night made me question everything I believed about trust and family.
Last weekend, I thought I lost my son.
It all started with a dog. My son, Andy, had been begging for one for months. Every day, he’d ask, “Dad, can we please, please get a dog?” He was relentless, and I was getting close to giving in. But he also had to convince Kelly, my wife.
After a lot of talking, my wife finally agreed. She looked at me seriously and said, “Fine, but only if it’s small and well-behaved. We’re not getting some big, messy mutt.”
Kelly had grown up in a tidy home, where pets were seen as small, clean, and polite. A poodle or a Yorkie, maybe, but definitely not a scruffy dog. Our son, though, wanted a real friend.
The shelter was loud, full of barking and howling. Andy’s eyes lit up as we walked down the rows of kennels, skipping over the fluffy dogs we were supposed to be considering.
Then he stopped. In front of us was a kennel with the scruffiest dog I’d ever seen. She had tangled fur, big brown eyes, and a tail that looked crooked. She didn’t bark, just looked at us, tilting her head as if curious.
I squatted down next to Andy. “She’s not exactly what your mom wanted, buddy.”
“She needs us,” he said, looking at me with a stubborn glint. “Look at her. She’s… sad. We could make her happy.”
“All right,” I said, ruffling his hair. “Let’s bring her home.”
When we walked in, my wife’s face fell. “She’s a little scruffier than I imagined,” she said, glancing between the dog and me.
“Come on, Daisy’s great,” I said, grinning. “Besides, they’re already best friends.”
She forced a small smile, looking unconvinced. “I just hope she doesn’t ruin the carpets.”
That evening, as we got ready for bed, Daisy wouldn’t settle down. She paced around, whining softly.
“Can’t you do something about that?” Kelly sighed, looking irritated.
“She’s probably nervous being in a new place,” I said. “Maybe she just needs some attention.”
Kelly hesitated, then swung her legs over the bed. “Fine. I’ll give her a treat or something,” she muttered and left the room.
Minutes later, she returned, saying, “She just needed a treat.” She climbed into bed, and the whining stopped.
I woke up around 3 a.m. to a strange quiet. Something felt wrong. I got up to check on Andy. His bed was empty, the covers on the floor, and the window slightly open.
A cold panic crept over me.
I rushed down the hall, checking every room, calling his name louder each time. But he was nowhere.
I ran back to the bedroom and shook my wife awake. “He’s not in his room,” I said, my voice shaking. “The window’s open. Daisy’s gone too.”
She sat up, her eyes wide, but there was something else—guilt?
“Maybe she escaped, and he went after her?” I asked, desperate for an answer.
She bit her lip, hesitating. “I don’t… I don’t know,” she stammered.
I picked up my phone and called the police, praying he was somewhere nearby.
Just as I was about to step outside, there was a soft scratching at the door.
When I opened it, Daisy sat there, covered in mud, panting. I dropped to one knee, feeling a mix of relief and confusion.
“Daisy?” I whispered. “Where were you?”
It felt strange to ask a dog, but I was desperate. She just looked up at me with tired eyes.
Hours later, just as dawn broke, my phone buzzed. It was Mrs. Carver, an elderly neighbor who lived nearby.
“I saw a little boy near the woods behind my house,” she said. “He looked… lost.”
I thanked her, grabbed my keys, and headed to the car. Kelly and Daisy followed, looking tense. The woods weren’t far, but it felt like miles.
When we arrived, I ran into the woods, calling his name. And then, finally, I saw him.
He was curled up under a tree, shivering, his face dirty. I knelt beside him, pulling him close.
“Buddy,” I said, my voice breaking. “You scared us half to death.”
He looked up, his face lighting up when he saw Daisy behind me. She’d followed us, sniffing the ground.
“Daisy,” he whispered, hugging her. “I thought you ran away because of me.”
I picked him up, wrapping him in my arms. “Let’s go home, all right?”
He nodded, looking back at Daisy like she was the only thing keeping him safe.
When we got back to the house, relief washed over me. My son was safe, Daisy was with us, but something still felt off.
My wife was tense, her eyes avoiding mine. She seemed distant, almost nervous. After we’d settled Andy on the couch with a blanket, I turned to her.
“I swear I locked the door. How did Daisy get out?”
She looked down, her hands twisting. After a long pause, she took a deep breath. “I… I let her out.”
I stared, not understanding. “You… let her out?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I thought… maybe if she disappeared, he’d get over it. She wasn’t the dog I wanted. She’s… scruffy, and I didn’t think she fit here.”
I felt anger and hurt boiling inside. “So you just… let her go?”
“I didn’t know he’d… he’d go after her,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I thought he’d be sad, then move on. I didn’t want this mess. I just wanted things to be normal.”
“Normal?” I repeated. “You put him in danger because you couldn’t handle a little mess?”
She sank into a chair, covering her face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he’d do something so brave or that Daisy would stay with him. I didn’t think.”
I shook my head, struggling to understand. I looked at Andy, snuggled up with Daisy on the couch, her head on his lap. They’d bonded through something none of us had expected.
“I don’t know how we move past this,” I said quietly. “But for now… Daisy stays. She’s part of this family, and you need to accept that.”
She nodded, wiping her eyes, realizing the weight of what had happened.
As I watched Andy stroke Daisy’s fur, a small, hopeful warmth rose in my chest. Family wasn’t about having things perfect. Sometimes, it was about the imperfect moments, the scruffy dogs, and the quiet forgiveness that held us all together.
Joyce DeWitt’s Candid Confession Confirms What We All Suspected
Decades may have passed since Three’s Company graced our screens, but its laughter still echoes in our hearts.
With unforgettable characters and side-splitting misunderstandings, this classic sitcom revolutionized the genre. Now, Joyce DeWitt reveals what really made the show a timeless treasure…
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From the hilarious antics of three single roommates to the unforgettable performances of John Ritter and Suzanne Somers, Three’s Company remains a beloved staple of American television. It’s hard to believe it’s been 40 years since the series finale aired on ABC, yet its charm and humor still resonate today.
To illustrate how long ago Three’s Company became a hit, I just watched the intro. Seeing the shots from Santa Monica Pier during the show’s prime reminds me of how much has changed since they filmed there.
Sadly, neither John Ritter nor Suzanne Somers are with us anymore; both were taken from us far too soon. But keeping the spirit of Three’s Company alive is Joyce DeWitt, 75, who shares her vibrant stories and cherished memories from the beloved show.
”The most dear, precious, tender – and utterly unexpected – experiences that have come from working in ‘Three’s Company’ are the many, many adults who have told me that ‘Three’s Company’ was a safe haven they could count on during their teen years – for some, the only safe haven,” Joyce DeWitt told US Weekly.
Joyce DeWitt circa 1978. (Photo by Images Press/IMAGES/Getty Images)
Starring as Janet Wood alongside John Ritter and Suzanne Somers, DeWitt became a television icon and she was such a day brightener for millions.
She appeared in 171 episodes of the show between 1976 and 1984.
“It was such a gift. I mean, it was iconic. But who would have thought it?” Joyce DeWitt told The Spec. “All we were trying to do was make people laugh. When I think about it, the show was really an attempt to do a contemporary version of a 16th-century farce. It was about silliness running wild. I mean, we were talking about serious issues at times, but that was always somewhere underneath.”
“John Ritter used to say, ‘We don’t want people to just laugh but to fall over their couch laughing,’” she added. “The real issue was always the depth of friendship and the love those characters had for each other. That’s what drew people to them.”
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After Three’s Company ended, DeWitt stepped away from the spotlight for over a decade before making her comeback to acting.
Yet, no matter what she has accomplished or plans to do in the future, the vast majority will always connect her with that iconic show. And there’s a very simple reason for that, according to DeWitt.
“It was a ‘time out’ from the oppressive, challenging, difficult circumstances they were navigating in their young lives,” DeWitt says and adds:
“And, oh by the way, they say the characters also did stupid, crazy stuff that made them laugh. But it was the love, trust and support of the characters, one to the other, that made them lifelong fans.”
Public Domain
When you look at unedited photos from the Three’s Company set, the camaraderie among the cast shines through, especially in the images of Joyce DeWitt and Suzanne Somers, who played the beloved Chrissy Snow.
Both actresses delivered iconic performances, portraying young women navigating a male-dominated industry. They contributed just as much to the show’s success as John Ritter, and in those early days, their smiles in photos tell a story of friendship and collaboration.
Yet, beneath the laughter, tensions simmered. While Somers was celebrated for her role as “the dumbest blonde in America,” her fight for equal pay created rifts that would grow over time. As she demanded a 500% salary increase — from $30,000 to $150,000 — her relationship with DeWitt became strained. The set, once filled with joy, was now fraught with conflict.
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