Jason called the other day to inform me that he had found a German Shepherd out on the road in the middle of nowhere. It didn't belong to any of the neighboring ranchers.
My response was: Take her to the pound.
She's real hungry.
Well bring her home, feed her, and then take her to the pound.
Why do I say crap like that? Sometimes I just try to sound so tough. Like the minute I saw this little puppy, my heart didn't ooze into a puddle of goo?
Meet Lilly.
She spent the night with us.
She was the sweetest dog. She just laid on the steps by the back door most of the time. She didn't bark, she didn't cry, she didn't chew up anything.
Then by the good will of the Lord one of Jason's friends called to chit chat. Because that's what Jason and his friends do. Really, they are worse than women.
During the course of the conversation, Jason mentioned this German Shepherd to his buddy and he just so happened to know who it belonged to. The owner came by to pick her up the next afternoon.
She had traveled about 12 miles away. He even mentioned she had papers. Are you kidding me? She was actually worth something?
It's incomprehensible to me that a dog can be worth something.
Especially when I own this.
No comments:
Post a Comment