The Clock Has Wings

My goodness how time flies! I apologize for my lack of storytelling lately! Excuses aside, I just didn't really have anything worth writing about. So....

First: HAPPY NEW YEAR

Second: A little story about a puppy.

Yesterday, the finance and I were FINALLY able to sell the solid oak mantel that has been sitting in our garage for eons. It's a beautiful thing that I had purchased foolishly when I wanted nothing more than to finish the bare fireplace off with something other than the sagging piece of wood that someone had carelessly (and barely) screwed into the wall. We then realized that we wanted "natural stone" and therefore placed the fate of our oak mantel into the hands of Craig, whom keeps a mighty dandy list of items for sale or barter.

Well, we had a nibble that turned into a showing and the couple who took our precious baby to it's new home came to peak at their potential project and hand us a chunk of change. I popped my head outside to get a looky-lou at the new owners when a puppy came barreling into the garage wagging his tail furiously and jumping every which way, only to turn and barrel right back out into the snow so he could role and chew at the rock solid ice.

Everyone exchanged glances and smiles and the husband of the pair commented, "Well, he sure doesn't get enough love now does he?" quite sarcastically, of course. I laughed and we went on with our sale.

The finance helped them pack up their new purchase and came back inside only to ask, "Who's dog is that?" Astounded, I replied, "Well, it's their's... isn't it?" "No, they left and the dog is still running around out there. Go look out the front door".

So, I headed over to see the little thing, still happy as a clam, running every which way across the road and under our giant spruce tree (hunting the rabbits I assumed). And then it hit me; I've seen him before. He was the dog that I helped capture about two months ago for a young woman. He was a bit smaller then, but the same dog all right. He was on the loose again!

I opened the door and called him over. Unlike the last incident, he came pouncing over and allowed me to pick him up. No collar. Hmmm... someone must have wriggled out of his collar and took off.

So, I bundled myself up, gave him a dish of water which he quickly lapped up and took him back out into the bitter cold streets to see if he could lead me to his home. The finance followed as well and the puppy took us one street over where we deduced, based on the puppy piddle and a doggless leash, where he may live.

This is where the story gets troublesome. I noticed that the blinds were filthy and broken and that there was no sign of a collar. I rang the doorbell in the off chance that we had guessed correctly and a young woman came to the door. I asked if the wild-eyed, hyper little mutt may be hers and she announced that yes he was and that he had run off a while ago.

I then remarked that I had been worried as it was much below zero and the little guy's face was nearly frozen completely over (not to mention the remnants of urine that was still clinging to his little dingle). She explained that he usually did this for about three hours and would come home when he felt like it. This irritated me to no end as I would never just shut the door and let my dog roam the car laden streets of suburbia.

She put on her jacket and joined us in the street, but once the pup layed eyes on her, all bets of catching him were off. He jumped here and there and placed his face in the ground and his butt in the air just tempting us into a game of tag. She brought out a treat and he immediately ran for his sweet to which she grabbed him by the fleshy abundance of his neck with a firm grip and he screeched in pain and bit her.

Odd, she could have just picked him up as I had earlier and been done with it, but instead she released him and looked up sheepishly as he went back to his little game. I tried to help, but finally the finance said (as cold as I've ever heard him speak in the presence of a stranger), "Let's go. It's her problem now". So, we left (me, hesitantly) and allowed her to deal with her own issue of a puppy that she obviously did not want or care for.

When we entered our home and I took off my jacket I began to say how terrible it was to see the poor little guy like that. Ironically, the sarcasm put forth by the man that bought our mantel turned out to be more true than I had imagined.

The finance told me to let it go because there was nothing we could do. I wanted to call the police, but there were no other signs of abuse and the dog looked healthy enough to me. But if I see that little thing running loose again, so help me, I will be on the phone before you know it.

It's unfair that someone who obviously does not want a dog is in possesion of one and I, who have been begging and begging and begging and begging, is without. What a cruel world it is!