I haven't been here in ages and now I have 296 things to tell you.
On Tuesday, TypePad was down and I could not post and I was SO MAD, because I wanted to tell you something SO COOL and I couldn't.
The Alex who sits next to me is a grownup. Compared to me. Which. Anyway, she and her boyfriend have wanted a dog for a LONG TIME, but they were being sensible and waiting till they both had real jobs, which ? Just go to a parking lot. There are plenty of free dogs there. Pound sign: Two Parking Lot Dogs So Far.
She's worked at my office for I think two years now, and she's doing great there and it's not at all annoying. We'll have meetings and it'll be all, "Alex wrote THIS and it was WONDERFUL and we ALL HAD A BIG PARTY in our PANTS over it. Oh, and June wrote something too."
Anyway, her boyfriend also just got a real job--he'd been in school. So this past weekend was their first visit to the shelter, where they thought they'd start looking and begin the whole months-long process about disagreeing on which dog to take.
"I fell in love with a dog this weekend," said Alex, who never says anything. I swear her first year she never spoke. She's super intimidating, with her reserve and her smart brain and all, till you get to know her and you realize she's way nicer than you. Which.
"Oh, the dog you'd been looking at?" she'd been online, and we all know how that is, when we get hooked on the dog porn that is PetFinder.
"No, at the shelter. Look at him." She had pictures of him on her phone. And I hate to be obsessed, but doesn't that look like Lottie of the Future, with the muzzle and the eyebrowns and so on?
Lottie of the Future!
Well, that's when I got invested, because you can imagine how she was clamoring for me to get all up in her life. Oh, good, June's on it. "Are you going to GET him?" I tried to keep the Aunt Bee tremor of excitement out of my voice.
"We want to, but we didn't expect to find a dog this soon. I don't know if we can afford everything he needs."
Of COURSE she can't afford everything he needs. No one can. I mean, I can't, ever. Which. But I mean, new dog. Entirely new dog. She doesn't even have any old, dead dog shit she can dredge up. So not only are there shots and neutering (the shelter does the neutering, at least), but there's the vet wellness visit in general, and bowls, and a giant brush (that dog's gonna need a giant brush) and leashes and dog nail polish because I've decided he's trans and the Welcome My Dog party.
And of course the DNA test. Dogs are expensive.
And that's when it hit me. YOU GUYS. You guys are like ME. You're TOTALLY gonna want her to get this two-year-old dog out the shelter and home with her. I know she'll give it a solid home, and YOU know I wouldn't condone anything else, so OH MY GOD I was so excited to sneak behind her back and get funds.
Then the damn Type and its Pad wouldn't work.
I don't even KNOW what's on that dog's eyebrow. Is he doing his Lottie impression? Impresh? Is it Faithful Reader Anita who hates that? Impresh. There. I said it again. ANITA.
At any rate, because I couldn't get on MY OWN BLOG which I pay BIG DOLLARS for every year (it comes out to $15 a month. Still.), I did the next-best thing.
I got on Pie on the Face.
If you're new here, and really? Blogs were a thing in like 2007. But here you are. "Oh, a BLOG!" I mean, I'M still here, sure, but I'm old and sad. What's your excuse? And oh, hey, welcome!
Anyway, if you're new here, Pie on the Face is where people who LOVE this blog and can't get enough of ME join together to show each other cat videos. As opposed to the rest of Facebook where that never happens. But sometimes they'll write something on the cat video like, "June loves cats."
I do. I do love cats. Not that you'd know I'd had any, what with this all-dogs-all-the-time blog lately.
Yes, I DID just paint that porch two years ago. I need a real person to come fix the steps and paint everything. My birthday is coming up. Now you know what to get me.
Dear June, Go fuck your own self. Love, Your Readers
Look at stretchy Iris. God, I love that cat.
Anyway, so on Tuesday morning, after being SQUELCHED by TypePad, I stampeded to Pie on the Face and told you guys my work neighbor Alex's tale of woe. "Let's all throw in five bucks and help her get that dog!" I said. "Here's my PayPal info," I said. Then I left for work.
It's a six-minute drive. By the time I got to work, bitch already had 57 dollars. (PayPal takes a cut unless you specify it's for a friend.)
I remained silent.
By the time I logged in and got coffee and snarled at everyone, she had 75. (squee!)
I think I broke by the first $100, but maybe I made it to 150. But eventually I confessed. "I KNEW they'd help you get this dog," I said. I was beside myself.
"Oh my god, June, I can't take that money," she said, amazed. "It's for YOU and you HAVE to," I said. She texted her boyfriend. "He wrote that I should pick you up and give you a big squeeze," she said, excited.
That is when I cockpunched her.
By the end of the day, you guys sent her more than FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS, which she thinks is too much and which every dog owner knows is not even enough. I told her to start a savings just for the dog, and then she'll have it if she needs to call the trainer, or board him, or when he swallows a dime or something.
The dog will be theirs by the weekend. He's officially THEIR DOG OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH, you guys. You really are the bomb.
Tomorrow I will tell you the other 257 things I have to tell you, and what I like about myself is my consistency with numbers.