Wanna hear a cool story?
Dad here; there are all types of dog rescues, but not all of them involve stories of neglect, abuse, or other depressing tales of woe. My buddy Gary has helped me with this page for years now, but doesn’t get a lot of press, although he’s a web-design and marketing genius.
He’s also a dog fanatic.
Gary was on a business trip over in Oklahoma this week, and was preparing to turn in after a grueling day of pressing the flesh. Picture if you will a middle aged guy of middling stature padding around the deluxe suite of his luxury high-rise hotel in his monogrammed terrycloth robe that’s juuuust short enough to be more than a little unsettling. The cold cream and cucumbers had been applied and the wafer-thin mint on his pillow consumed when he heard a commotion coming from the lobby downstairs.
Actually, with the exception of the commotion in the lobby, none of the above is true; that’s just how I envision Gary on a sales trip.
Anyway, the commotion continued to the point that he finally had to arise and wash the cold cream from his face, eat the cucumber slices, slip on his fuzzy slippers and go downstairs to see what was upsetting the Arabs. The three employees were unsuccessfully endeavouring to corral a stray cattle dog that had somehow found his way in from the range, so Gary grabbed a snack from the vending machine and sat down to enjoy the show.
The dog, immediately recognizing a kindred spirit, jumped up on the chair and settled in next to Gary. The hotel employees had already called the police, so they had to be notified that the crisis had been resolved. Gary agreed to pay the additional pet fee, and the two of them returned to the deluxe apartment in the sky. Jasper, as he was christened by Gary, promptly claimed his spot on the bed, and daylight found them heading back towards Arkansas.
There’s more to the story yet to be resolved, as the dog’s owner has now been found back in Oklahoma, and is supposed to pick up the dog sometime next week. Next week? A whole lot of attachment can happen in a week; don’t ask me how I know this.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; all we can do is what we can do, and worry about it at night. Gary manned up and did what he could do, as he always does…
But I still can’t shake that image of him in that terrycloth robe, shuffling back up to his room with a stray dog in tow.
We be of one blood, he and I.
Happy Charlie Bravo Day!
