Oh. My. Stars.
Today I had an interview in Raleigh, and I wasn't sure I really wanted the job. I was even thinking, "Why am I driving to Raleigh for this?" as I was in fact driving to Raleigh.
I was screeching down a two-lane highway. I was annoyed because I had had to stop for gas, and then twice there was that kind of road work where they shut down one side of the street and you have to wait for the cars to pass you.
Finally, the road seemed to be clear, and I was passing a small group of trailers when I saw a TINY PUPPY ON THE SIDE OF THE FREEWAY.
I said out loud, "Oh, no" and I did a U-turn right there. Someday when I die, you can be pretty much assured it will be because I was in the midst of loving some animal. Either I will have crawled into a lion's cage at the zoo, or I will have tried to kiss a cougar in the wild, or I will do something stupid on the street to avoid and/or rescue an animal.
Anyway, I came back around and saw that it was a yellow Lab mix puppy. I opened my car and I know I am being dramatic, but the look on her face said, "Hello, mom!" and she leaped into my car. Or scrambled, seeing as she is three months old and doesn't quite have jumpy legs yet.
We sat there together on the side of the road, her tail wagging furiously and her snout on my shoulder. I looked at the three trailers nearby. I considered knocking on the doors and asking, "Is this your dog?" but you guys. There were no fences in those yards. She was really skinny.
What I am trying to tell you is I stole the dog.
I called the place where I had the interview, and they said, "Bring her! We love dogs!" which is pretty great, but to drive her 250 miles round trip seemed kind of mean. So I said I had to reschedule and we came home.
I took her to Marvin's school first. I am telling you right now. He is gonna get an oxygen tank or become addicted to Benedryl or SOMETHING. Because this is my dog. She is my ding-dang dog. That is it.
However, Marvin seemed unaffected by her, except for the part where he was reduced to the word, "oh." "Ohhhh. Oh-hoho. Ohhh," he said. He did not sniff. He did not tear up.
Finally, I took her to my vet, who is the best vet I ever had. My Lulabelle (and yes, I am pretty sure I am naming her Lulabelle. Sue me.) has ticks, worms, and is malnourished. Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?
And that, folks, is why there is no photo yet. She is there, getting a flea bath and a worm shot and whatever else she needs, and I can get her this evening. In the meantime I came home and took a hot shower, as she managed to pee, poop and drool on me in one car ride.
I do not even know what to tell you. I think I was just meant to find her. Had there not been those delays in traffic. Had I not needed gas. Had I not had a stupid interview. Et cetera.
So, please stay tuned for Lulabelle Gardensalad, coming to a blog near you.
