Today was a particularly gorgeous, getting- a-headstart-on-Spring kind of day, good for my usual Wednesday off for sleeping in, writing, breathing, napping and walking. With trees blossoming all around the house, and daffodils and jonquils blooming everywhere, the hood was a lovely place to hang out in today.I finished my "funny" travelling salesman WIP this morning, although I'm not sure I'll get it sharp enough and polished enough by Friday to feel confident enough to send it off to the antho I'd really like to get into. I really prefer to let stories sit for at least a week between first and second drafts, but I don't have that luxury this time. However, I don't like sending off sub standard work either. Whether I decide to sub it or not, at least I've got another new story almost ready to go, and my momentum is steadily building. I'm already lining up my next WIP.
After writing, I headed off for my usual medicinal laps around the local botanical gardens. Along the way, I picked up this very cute, but collarless and tagless companion. He came out of nowhere, was an energetic and friendly little blighter who acted as if we'd know each other for a lifetime, and I began to get that familiar sinking feeling that yet another animal had latched onto me and become my responsibly. After he'd followed me for a while and showed no signs of ever nicking off again, I doubled back in an attempt to find his home, hoping to run across some distressed looking person searching for him. No such luck. Just when it looked like I was going to have to head for the RSPCA, his little ears suddenly perked up and, without a goodbye or a backwards glance, he zoomed off and just kept on running, definitely a dog with a mission, presumably obeying the distant call of his master's voice. At least that's what I read into his body language.Now I find myself a little worried. It's raining buckets outside, so I do hope he's somewhere safe and sound in a nice warm doggie basket.
4 comments:
I know what you mean. I just hate it when I begin to think, 'This time I've really found a lost dog.' It's such a hassle trying to sort it out.
Reminds me of my pre-dog-owning days when I found a little dog wandering in my suburb, took her home, rang the number on the tag and found the owner had been in her front yard gardening and looked up to discover her pet had been dog-napped. Still, the dog should have been IN the garden, IMHO.
If I had a dollar for every hour I've spent dealing with lost and injured animals that I've just happened upon...
One such situation I'll always remember happened in Denmark. I came across a little dog wandering amidst the traffic on a busy four lane road, got off my bike and caught it, and took it to my grandfather's. He called the council and located the owners,and we drove around to their place and dropped the little dog off.
I kid you not, the owners took the dog from me, snippily informed us that he was used to roaming far and wide and free, and put him down, whereupon the little dog immediately sped off again. There were no thank yous for my grandfather or me either. In fact, they were obviously annoyed that we had interferred. Now if that little dog had shown signs of being a savvy survivor, I might not have been so horrified at their neglect, but when I saw him, he was a happily trotting around amidst the traffic without a clue that the cars represented any danger. I wonder whatever happened to him...
Sometimes we just have to say to ourselves that we can't make things right.
I hate to walk away, but that's all we can do sometimes.
I think that little dog lived a long and happy life. (Let's hope.)
Yeah, I'll go with that ending too :)
Post a Comment