So I was in my pajamas in the van, in the garage with the doors open, waiting for Dani and Jake to finish their breakfast so I can take them to school, and they're not coming. Yes, I wear my pajamas to take them to school, sometimes. On this particular morning I happened to be wearing my pajamas...I was unaware it was going to become a significant day or else I may have chosen to dress a little more appropriately. But I didn't know. Regardless, I was getting impatient waiting for them to finish their toast, then Jake comes jumping out of the house - not saying anything but just pointing into the kitchen and huffing and puffing and shaking like a maniac. And so I firmly and not so patiently request that he stops fooling around and gets in the car!! And he just looks at me with these wide crazy eyes like there's something magical going on but is too scared to say the word to his momma, until I yell...I mean, emphatically request for him to just tell me what the whooey is going on!!!
and then he says the word.
in my kitchen.
I'm not an animal person. Our pet rule is that the kids can have any living thing they want as long as it doesn't poop. So a dog in my kitchen definitely does not fit within those very safe and firm animal guidelines.
At this point I choose NOT to get out of my car but continue to yell, emphatically request, at my children to get the dog OUT OF THE HOUSE! "Just get it out of the house, get it out of the house! Do not pet the dog, do not feed the dog, do not love or admire or develop any emotions for the dog, just lead it out of my home and direct it towards its own dwelling and it will know where to go!" (don't judge me.)
Then Dani shoots out of the house proclaiming that it has no collar and therefore under the "No Collar Act" she just made up she has the lawful and legal right to keep the dog and make it her own. So I'm yelling, requesting, louder now and beginning to think I should get out of the car to take care of business myself but I really don't want to leave my seat warmer and in mid yell Dani holds up this sweet face:
I turned the car off and left my seat warmer.
We put him in the backyard and I took the kids to school, borrowed some dog food from a friend, then checked the Animal Shelter and Craigslist listings for lost dogs and sighed because I knew there was a sad family looking for Sam. That's what we named him. I sat in the back yard with Sam and tried not to admire or develop emotions for him while we waited for the shelter to open, but I did. On accident.
He didn't have a microchip so we couldn't identify his owners right away, so I filled out adoption papers for him in case nobody came to claim him. They told me they'd let me know. I handed him over, and secretly echoed Dani's earlier wish that if the owners showed up we could pull an Old Yeller and trade them a lizard for him.
A nice girl from the shelter called a couple days later and told us the owners came and claimed him. I thanked her and said that was so great for Sam, I was so happy they found him. Then I hung up the phone and told the kids, and went in the backyard and cried just a little.
He was never really my dog. But I miss him.
I might need to buy myself a goldfish.