And I mean to tell you it's the laaast thing we need.
Truly. I don't have to tell you about the price of gas and how you have to drive everywhere in this megalopolis just to l-i-v-e. (FWIW, when was the last time a large bag of Lays potato chips -- which I didn't buy but did admire in amazement -- cost over $4? Answer: NEVER.) And did I mention healthcare bills up the ying yang? I know I'm singing to the choir here my sisters and brothers.
So when my sister told me about this starving, lonely, neglected mother dog next door to her (one puppy dead, one 'gone,' and the other now belonging to my sister) who wasn't being fed or watered (except when she'd sneak over to do it), and when she told me the owner told her to just find someone to take it--he didn't care as long as it was gone soon--and when she asked me to look at it with her while I was visiting last weekend, my question to YOU, dear readers, is why the heck did I not drive away?
Why did I go back to that dog pen in the glaring sun with no shade in the 100-degree heat and see this 4 pound shaggy black little mama dog sitting there so scared and so lonely? No babies, no friends, no family, nothing but flies and muddy water.
This is a matter of mathematics. We already have two dogs, two cats, one (currently) hamster, one beta, and a variety of insects who consider themselves kin. I should not have walked back there. I should not have picked her up. I should have driven away.
And that's what I did. With four little paws on the floorboard of the van, planted near the air conditioning, with two of the most grateful eyes I've ever seen looking up at me.
And we're calling her daisy.
She eats cheap dog food and runs around naked despite the list of Walmart dog clothes Jenna had in mind, and she eats out of jenna's old baby bowls and sleeps in a cat carrier. And I think she thinks she's in heaven.
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