Something is happening to me up here. I am suddenly an animal magnet. I’ve always wanted to be one, so I guess I’m kind of excited at the prospect of furry friends popping up at any moment.
Most recently, as I was clinging to Matt’s torso as we winded our way around the lake on the motorcycle, we spotted some puppies. They were basically out in the road and so I insisted that we turn around and check out the situation. Leg-deep in mud, the two little pups were luckily wearing collars. One immediately bounded over to me while the other escaped back through the woods. The tag told me that they should live on the street above, and so I carried the little dirt devil up the hill. Yes, I got muddy. Yes, I smelled like wet dog. Yes, I’d needed to pee for the last 30 minutes. But no mind! The animals needed me!
I knocked on the front door, where the inhabitants seemed grateful, but not overly surprised, to see me. “Ohhh, thank you, thank you,” the kind, raspy-voiced, David-Cross-if-he-gained-15-pounds-lookalike said to me as I handed over his dirty dog. The other one had made it back home and was sitting in the driveway laughing at me. “Stupid girl, she got dirty for nothing, we knew our way home.” “Yeah, well, you would have likely gotten hit by a car if it weren’t for me, dumb dog,” I subconsciously snarled.
Reaching my pain threshold for having to pee, I shared a few words with the nice man and his daughter and then hustled back to the waiting bike. As I slid on my now wet helmet and goggles (in my haste I dropped them in a swamp puddle), David Cross came back out. He was heading out to meet his ex-wife, but first talked to us for 10 minutes about motorcycles. While I appreciate that he made eye contact with me and included me in the conversation, this was not a conversation I was in the mood for. I had to pee, dammit! Finally he exited, citing his ex-wife’s potential anger at his being tardy, and so Matt and I finally scooted home. And I was finally able to use the bathroom.