Yesterday started out normally enough. I got hit on. I know. When you look like this:
I had washed my face, brushed my teeth, put my stupid hair up and headed to the Bog Garden to take Talu for a walk. Edsel couldn't go because of his incision and yes I DID feel like the world's worst dog mom. I felt a lot better about it when I brought home a puppy, though.
Okay, I will get to the point.
We bogged, Talu and me, and she got her Gentle Leader in her eye, which she always does. On the way in, we'd seen an older man, and by "older" I mean older than me, which right there is a rarity. I eat a lot of Dannon yogurt. Anyway he looked educated and well-dressed and harmless and I had my tough leash-in-her-eye Pit, so I didn't worry.
Near the end of our stroll we crossed paths and he said, "This park is so wonderful." "Oh, did you just move to Greensboro?" I asked, doing my fake-polite thing. Turns out he'd moved here 30 years ago. He's a professor of the very thing Ned majored in in college (he's a professor of alcohol). My point is, we walked out together and he said, "I'd love to see you again. Can I take you to dinner sometime?"
Naturally as soon as he was gone, I stampeded to call Ned. "You should rest assured your girlfriend has still got it," I told Ned. He feigned interest in the story and we talked about getting together later if I wasn't out sleeping with any professors.
So right after that Lu and I popped in to PetSmart.
We were just getting one thing, so I left the windows down in my car so it wouldn't be a heat box for Lu when we returned. Is "heat box" a thing or did I just make it up? Anyway, we saw Anita, the woman who trained Lu during her puppy school years (Lu majored in alcohol) and just had us a time.
When we got to the car I started putting Talu in the passenger seat, and I thought, "How did she ride in here before with this box on the seat?" Then I thought, wait. I didn't have any box on my seat. Then I looked around my car, worrying I'd opened the wrong car even though I used my key.
I major in quickness.
The box had kind of a polo shirt in it, the kind you'd wear to some job where they make you wear polo shirts. I lifted it trepidatiously.
Something black and moving was in there.
"THERE'S A LIVE ANIMAL IN MY CAR!" I screeched, seeing super extra sane. Two women, probably a mom and daughter, were nearby. "What is it?" they asked. "I'm too scared to look!" I said, backing away. I mean, what if it was a ferret or a snake or something dead? What if the mob was sending me a message as they are wont to do?
Someone had covered her with the tshirt, and left her toy shark. She had on a pink collar with a bell, which is probably a cat collar. How humiliatin'.
In the meantime, I'd called beleaguered Ned, who was trying to work out and do laundry and have his regularly scheduled life. I had him take the puppy to my house while I drove Lu, because I just didn't want any fisticuffs between them while I was driving.
Iris is appalled. She gathered herself up and huffed out the room, with full intentions to write her congressman.
But, dudes, you know I can't keep her. I can't! I can't have three dogs. I mean, does anyone want Edsel? Because otherwise Ima have to find a home for her. I really do. She seems to be a Border Collie, and she has peed EVERY TIME I take her out. Not that she hasn't had mishaps indoors. But she already knows what outside is for. When Talu was a pup we'd go out–in the winter–and stand there for ages while I said, "GO POTTY! GO POTTY! GO POTTY! like an idiot, then eventually we'd go inside and she'd immediately poop on the floor.
thanks god we go inside so lu can poop in warm, she'd say.
By the way, poor Edsel had to go back to the big cone because the soft one enabled him to lick his injury. And in all the excitement I forgot to say his pathology came back and it wasn't even cancer at all! It's a histo-something! She had been so convinced it was cancer, the vet was. But no! So that's good.
Anyway. Does anyone want a puppy? I will drive halfway and meet you. If you aren't a regular commenter, if you could provide a reference from your vet that would be great. Because I need to make sure she's going somewhere good.
Does it seem like this stuff only happens to me?