Thursday, February 09, 2006

I'm officially Going to Hell

I’m upset, very, very upset.

An hour or so ago, Frank and I were sitting in the living room, just watching TV. We heard this strange yowling, which both of us thought was on the TV. It turned out it wasn’t.

I opened my front door, and sitting on the front step was a puppy, who I instantly christened “Chewbacca”. Imagine a cross between Chewy, of Star Wars fame, and a fat, cute, cuddly teddybear.

No collar, no ID. It just sat and looked at me.

I brought it inside to get a better look, and the poor thing went to town. Investigating everything it could see, including Padme, who wasn’t too happy about it. Then it pulled a blanket off one of the freshly folded stacks of laundry I folded a few minutes ago, curled up in it, and just stared at me.

Unfortunately, this is a problem.

You see, we already own a cat. We quite simply don’t have the space for a puppy, or the time to train one.

The other problem is where we live. We’re out in the sticks, and the grass around here is flea heaven. We took care of one of my stepson’s dogs for a few days once, and every time we let it out, it would come back in, crawling with fleas.

Between the flea bites and constant flea-baths, he got sick. Not to mention we had to bug bomb the house three times to get rid of the fleas…then spray every inch of carpet with flea killer after that.

So there was my conundrum. It’s dark and pretty damn cold outside. I’ve got the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen, making itself comfortable, lying on my feet, just staring right through me with pure puppy cuteness and gratitude in its eyes.

Then I had to pick him up, and put him back outside.

It took a grand total of four and a half minutes before my heart actually shattered, and I went to let him back inside.

When I opened the door, he went quiet, and I couldn’t find him.

The only small comfort I can get from this is that he was too well fed to be a stray, and there aren’t many houses close to here. Hopefully, someone just lost track of him, he got out, and is on his way home as I write this.

Of course, it doesn’t make me feel any better.

I’m officially going to hell.

1 comment:

MC Etcher said...

I knew you couldn't do it!