My wife called me at work one day around 1:00 on a Friday. One of our dogs (the puppy she was quite attached to) had gotten out of the gate and run off into the woods by some railroad tracks near our house.
If you've been married for any length of time, you'll know your spouse well enough that when certain tones are used...
...So I left work to go help find the dog ... Which involved tromping through the woods for 7 hours. Occasionally the dog would surface - but being a puppy - He would just run past and away...again... Which meant my ass had to run wide open through the thicket trying to follow the little prick. Mind you I've been smoking for over 30 years...so this is no small feat.
The point being...
When I got to work that Monday, the owner (whom I report to directly) came by to inquire as to my whereabouts on Friday afternoon. -(eek!)- ...I simply told her the story above - which was a good bit longer with the rest of the details.
Her only concern, which she expressed by stopping me half way through the story...was about whether or not the dog
... Apparently my absence and the judgment involved in its coming to be were irrelevant as long as the puppy survived intact ... Which he did.