Barney and me
Had the weirdest experience this afternoon. A little dog wandered into the backyard. He's one of those ragmop kind of pups. Kind of a old guy. He looked lost.
I saw him through the window, so I went out on the porch and called him. He came right over and let me look at his tag. So I give him some water and call the phone number and tell Joan that little Barney is in my possession and I'm worried he's going to wander out into the rush hour traffic and get killed. "Oh," she says, "has he crossed the street?" As if I'm supposed to know where she lives. Anyway, she says she'll be right over to collect him.
About 15 minutes later I hear someone calling his name out front. So I wander out to the front porch and the person is already driving away. So I holler out and she stops at the end of the driveway and says, "Oh you know he wanders off but he always comes home," and she drives away. Without the dog.
So I'm wondering what I'm supposed to do with him now. Then I hear her calling him again. She had driven around to the side street instead of coming in the driveway. Never did see what she looks like since there's another yard between us. It was very strange.
Meanwhile, the little guy was just a miserable bag of fleas and reeked of flea powder. I had let him in the house briefly until I realized it. The smell lingered for hours. It's true when they tell you, no good deed goes unpunished.