Pardon any typos. It was a long night.
Two days ago, Anna brought home a young, dirty, abandoned mutt. The dog was a stray, found somewhere in Virginia by a rescue organization called Paws for Miles. Through a friend at work, Anna learned that this female dog was to be euthanized if it was not adopted or fostered before the start of the Labor Day weekend.
Did I mention this dog was pregnant? Yeah, pregnant. Big-time pregnant. Can-barely-walk pregnant.
Michelle and I are suckers for a sob story, and this situation was certainly sob-worthy. A young dog about ready to give birth to who knows how many pups was about to die because of a numbers game. It’s tough, but I understand how it works. If every stray found walking on the side of the road was with us today, we’d be up to our necks in dogs. Nevertheless, when Anna told Michelle about this opportunity (a word we’ll use here for lack of anything better), her answer was predictable…"It’s up to your Dad.”
So, here comes Anna, meandering into the living room while her unsuspecting father is doing something incredibly important (probably, maybe). Then, she lays it on me, smiling wryly because she knows I’m Jello-y for anything dogs. “Me?!! Me?!! Muuuhshelllllll!!”
Here’s the deal. Twelve years ago I stumbled across a pup that was up for adoption at a local shelter. Today, he’s my best boy, Pudge The World’s Greatest Dog. He’s as much a part of the Condron Clan as any one of us, and he’s made our lives immeasurably better. So while Michelle and I may be suckers, there are nine dogs that now have a chance to be someone’s best friend. And it’s all because of Anna, the most kind-hearted person I’ve ever known...with the superpower to manipulate the crap out of her Dad.
Say hello to Stella and The Great Eight.
(Music: Five Days Old, by Jeffrey Seeman)
