Over the weekend....

The Ken doll contractor continues to work on the gazebo... he has such a little bit left to do, which would have been finished on Saturday except for the fact that he was constantly on his cell phone. We're not paying him by the hour, so what he does out there with his phone is his own business, but I wish he would just put his mind to his work and finish up already. One would think he'd want to be done with this job, get paid, and be off to the next job site.

We had a fox on the porch last night, munching on Meow Mix that I'd left there for the orange cat. The only reason I knew the fox was outside was because Sweet Pea (our indoor cat with amazingly sensitive ears) jumped up from his blanket and ran to the back door. I switched on the porch light and all I could see was a brown blur streaking down the porch steps. That fox ran off the porch as silently as he had come up... I looked at the cat food dish and it was empty, except for the 'slobber' that was all over the sides of the bowl.  That orange cat will just have to eat his dinner before it gets near to the fox's dinner time.

We drove up to College Station yesterday.... went to the Halloween costume shop to look around... there were more hideous costumes in that store than I've ever seen in one place at one time. Whatever happened to "Happy Halloween?!"  We love Halloween, and we always celebrate it with a party, but honestly, if I had a house filled with people in fake-blood-soaked costumes and swords through their hearts, I think I would have nightmares till Christmas.

College Station has a Half Price Bookstore, so we stopped in there for a look-see... and within twenty minutes, I was holding ten books. (As if I don't already have more than enough to read.)  They must have recently culled through their shelves in that store because their Clearance shelves were chock-full of great books, all for three dollars or less. (How could I not buy some books?)  Before going up to the register, I looked through the 10 books that I was holding, put four of them back, and bought six.  No matter how much time you have to read, there will never be enough time to read all that you'd like to read.

On the drive back from College Station, we saw a small black dog walking along the side of the road. Both my husband and I saw the dog at the same time, and we reacted instinctively, as if it had been our own dog. My husband drove the car behind the dog and pulled off to the shoulder... I got out of the car and started calling "Here puppy... here puppy..."  My husband slowly drove the car in front of the dog and he got out to speak to people who were in front of the nearest house there.

Meanwhile, "puppy" heard me calling him and turned around to look at me.  I bent down towards the grass (not even looking for fire ant mounds) and I put my arms out towards that little dog and kept saying "Here puppy... here puppy...."   And that cute little dog turned his puppy-self around and came running to me as if I were his lost mama.... he got about ten inches in front of my feet and flopped over on his back so I could rub his belly.

Such a cute little fluffy dog, sort of Lhasa Apso-ish, all black with a bit of white on his chest. (Nearly identical to a little dog named Champion that I had about 25 years ago.)  While my husband was talking to the people near the house, the emotional side of my brain was thinking "This is your dog!" and the rational side of my brain was screaming "This is NOT your dog!"

The little dog followed me towards that house as if he'd been walking with me for years. The woman there didn't own the dog, but her neighbor down the road did... but didn't care about the dog and wasn't taking care of him. "That dog is out in that road half the day and sooner or later he's going to get hit. Take the dog if you want him... he looks like he's already claimed y'all."  I looked at my husband and he had that look on his face...... the look that says "This is NOT our dog and we can't take him."

Well, of course he was right... it was not our dog. I told that to the woman... "We can't steal someone's dog."   "Well, you'd be taking care of the dog... you wouldn't have stopped y'all's car if you didn't care... and I'll never breathe a word to that neighbor... you'd be doing that dog a favor."

By that time, the dog had found a shady spot under a tree in the woman's yard.... and the little voice in my brain kept saying "You canNOT take someone's dog."   The woman told us that the little dog would eventually go home... and with any luck, he wouldn't end up under the wheel of a car out on that road.  I know she was silently pleading with me to take that dog, but I couldn't. No way. It was not my dog, no matter how much it looked like Champion.

I was not put on this planet to judge how other people take care of their pets. I can voice my opinions, but I'm not here to judge anyone's behavior other than my own.  I hope that little dog has a long and happy life, and I hope an angel drops a thunder-cloud on the head of his owner.