The other night I was up at the track with all the kids (neighbor kids included) running away (not literally, just figuratively). As I'm finishing my last lap, all the kids start following me, talking all at the same time, about some dog. I was looking a bit like the Pied Piper. In the most patient voice I could muster while gasping for every precious breath, I asked if they could PLEASE wait for 2 more minutes so I could finish this all important last lap. I was not about to let a little lost dog ruin my goal. My priorities were soaring at this point.
The lap is finally finished, the goal reached and I start walking across the field to meet up with the kids. You would have thought their best friend just died. They couldn't believe I could be so heartless as to let a little dog run out of their grasp (they were not allowed to step foot out of the field so I could keep my eye on them the whole time). It was now wandering aimlessly through the parking lot somewhere. I assured them that we would indeed find the dog and bring it back to it's owner. A collective sigh of relief could be heard.
So there we all are, 5 kids and me, roaming in and out of cars, calling for some random dog that we don't even know if it is a he or she or even if she has some horrible illness, fleas or even rabies for that matter. Thankfully, it ran right towards us and was quickly inside our little huddle before it knew what hit it. After a unanimous vote, it was decided that I would carry the dog to the van, being that it was a wiggly mass of 25 pounds or more with no collar.
Upon reaching the van, the dog jumped right in and took her place in one of the seats. I have to say this for the dog, she was clean, didn't bark or whine, and was seemingly well behaved. She knew we must be bringing her back to her castle. Unfortunately, we had no clue where that was.
The neighbor kids' mom is a huge dog lover, and I thought, the perfect person to 'rescue' this dog. I was really hoping to pass the poor thing off on her and be done with it. Not so. Although she felt bad for it, she didn't feel bad enough to take it in her house with her. Great. Now I need to think of a plan B. Too bad none of the shelters were open this time of night. Looks like litte lost dog gets to come home with us.
Just a side note, bath time and bed time are being blown out of the water here. When Chuck is out of town, I operate on a tight schedule. I look forward to this part of the evening when the time is my own and I can sit and stare at a wall in silence. Not so tonight. Tonight, I have to make a flier to post around the neighborhood so little lost dog can get found again.
I put the dog and kids out back. They lavished attention, food, water and toys on it. They even gave it a temporary name "Weedy". I doubt there was any deep thought behind it. The kids probably just looked around the back yard and named her the thing they saw the most of - that would be weeds. Meanwhile, I'm back inside honing my Powerpoint skills and making a poster worthy of some advertising award.
We then all load back up in the van, sans 'Weedy' and go post our flier at the entrance to the neighborhood. Thankfully, the rest is all downhill from there. Baths were a welcome relief (for me) and removed any all all skin lichens the kids may have unknowingly retained by caressing your random lost animal. Bedtime was filled with many prayers for this special friend who came into our lives.
I even found myself having a fitful sleep that night - worried about the dog. Would the shelter take the animal? Did I have to set up an appointment? What if they thought it was my own I was trying to pass off as a stray? What time would they open? Would the owners think to look there? I was up early in the morning looking for the number. I thought I'd check on the dog and see how she made it through the night. She didn't.
She was no where in sight. I looked everywhere in the backyard. Evidently, we weren't the kind of family she wanted rescuing her and she dug her way out to better pickings. I was nervous about breaking this news to the kids. Bennett's response was, "Great. We lost a lost dog."
Yep. That pretty much sums the whole fiasco up.
