Yesterday morning... as I was pulling out of the driveway, I saw a blur of yellow dash behind my car. My first reaction... is it a mountain lion? Gotta get the kids to safety. Turns out.. .the blur that I almost hit is a Labrador - with no collar. What's a dog doing in my neighborhood without a collar?
If this was a cat... I wouldn't think twice about it... but for some reason, I stopped, got out, and instinctively reached out my hand so the dog can sniff me. Not that I can tell or anything...but the dog looked old. Specks of white shining out of the coat of gold. The kids came out and got so excited it scared the dog... so I told them to run back inside to get mommy to bring out a dish of water.
Upon closer look... you can literally see the rib cage sticking out. Further signs she's a stray... that hasn't eaten in a while. But why? Where? And why was it so clean? NN noticed her nails need filing... I have no idea what that means. I have no idea what to do. Call animal control? Call a pound? Bring the dog inside and post pictures on NextDoor? What if the owner isn't a user? What if the owner... is "in-transition" and doesn't have a home?
We're not dog people so we ran across the street and explained the situation to our neighbor who owns a dog. She knew exactly what to do. The moment she led the dog away... I wanted to stop her. As if this wasn't suppose to happen.
When we drove away to lunch, the kids kept saying the dog was sent by God. They came up with a dozen names for her. And started saying that for Christmas, that's all they want. Then it became more creative... for MY birthday, they'll get ME a dog. In all honesty... my heart was moved. My mind was thinking... maybe this IS a sign. Maybe this dog was meant for us. She's an older dog... meaning she's due to die soon. But since we don't have a strong emotional attachment, no big deal? I started thinking of the bills racking up from the vet. I started thinking walking the dog later that afternoon and having to pick up poop. I thought about stopping by Costco... and finally becoming a true red-blooded American by spending gobs and gobs of money on dog food and cat litter. In that waking moment... Joyce says, "We can't take care of her." And she's right.
During lunch, I get a text from our neighbor saying the dog is doing well... asleep on the rug. And a couple hours later... she texts me again saying they've found the owner. But for those couple of hours... I think I was closer than ever to getting a dog. To find what I've been longing for all these years... to find my best friend.
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