You Ain't Right Club

[LivGolden]

And now , back to our regularly scheduled PROGRAM PROGRAm PROGRam PROGram PROgram...........................................................

Dear Mr. Popeye,

I've gotten pretty obsessed with these wonderful declarations and badges. I don't usually tell this Story because of possible implications.
I'm feeling excited and would like to have another badge if I might earn it, of course. Here's my Story:


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I was driving North when I saw Hondo wandering the streets of, oh, let's say 'El Paso'. The proof someone once cared for Hondo - an orange vest and a collar around his neck. No address, though.

I wondered if maybe a truck driver had lost Hondo. Perhaps they had become separated. I was in a terrific hurry to get to Utah but I did still take some time to ask around at a nearby truck stop if anyone knew who Hondo might belong to. I explained how I'd found Hondo down by the Courthouse. Sad to say, no one knew Hondo. I called a couple of places to ask if there was a no-kill Shelter in the area. There wasn't.

I worried  fellas like Hondo didn't stand much chance at a shelter and so I just couldn't leave him behind. I was headed to Utah and so I decided to take Hondo with me. I had decided Hondo was in need of a departure. And a bath. Or two. BTW, bloodhounds are hard to bathe. Especially around the ears...

There was a bit of a struggle, initially, but once Hondo got use to the idea, he settled comfortably into the back seat of my car and we headed North. We camped a couple of nights but we also stayed at a couple of motels where after a bit of a struggle more, Hondo seem to tolerate the showers I gave him.

I would eventually leave Hondo in Utah with a woman I met at Zion. I told the woman I'd given Hondo a ride fully realizing I couldn't keep him. After a promised visit to the Park, I was taking Hondo to a Rescue in nearby Kanab. The woman said that she'd be glad to take him. She told me how not long ago, she'd had a dog. And they had a family; were a family. 

The woman described how she'd been wandering around the Country like a "hobo in a Subaru", following the Rivers, working as a Raft Guide.

She said her journey ended when after a particularly difficult paddle she had to have surgery on her shoulder. After the operation put her out of work, the woman started slowly getting back into life by volunteering at the Kanab Animal Rescue. She has found happiness. She was confident Hondo would find happiness there, too.

That evening I attended a Fiddle Drumming event at a nearby Senior Center. Six women sat around a wood stove drumming fiddles and reminding the world they were not alone. And that they had no idea how to play fiddles.

I drank warm cider and wondered if I would die that night - suddenly. I would not.

The next day I traveled to Springdale. While there, I rode in the sidecar of a turquoise blue 1966 Harley while holding a near-blind, 11 year old beagle named Sweet Mitch. 

I'd met Sweet Mitch and his mom as I ordered coffee at a local cafe. The tables were full inside and so I took my breakfast burrito outside to a table out on the sidewalk. I asked to sit with a woman and her dog. The woman signaled an 'ok' with her coffee mug. I tried to start a conversation with her but she was off somewhere - thinking. So I started a conversation with her dog.

Sweet Mitch had one almost-clear eye and he responded to me with deep moans and a slight tail wag. That seemed to make the woman a bit more amenable to a chat.

"We always think there is more time, you know.", said Sweet Mitch's mom.

"When your autumn's come, there is no proper way to behave, is there." It wasn't a question. Mitch's mom was speaking from experience.

My heart was full knowing how I had saved Hondo. How because of me Hondo would find happiness.

I just loved everyone right then: Hondo; the woman who took Hondo to Kanab; Sweet Mitch and his mom. Everyone. 

I was hugging Sweet Mitch when my phone rang. It was the Kanab Rescue woman. Seems Honda had a chip and the wonderful folks at Kanab were able to find Hondo's owner. 

"Oh, my Goodness. I'm so happy. Where are they? Who is the owner."

"Well, Liv, that's the thing. You just stole the Sheriff's dog. He's on his way up here to pick, er, a Hondo up, now. The sheriff would like to know where you are."

" Somewhere in Canada.", I replied. 

Sweet Mitch was wagging his tale. I believe, to this day, that Sweet Mitch might have gone to Canada with me - If I had insisted...!




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Dear Mr. Popeye, do you think I could get a 'dog-saving' badge for this. 'Tis  a true story though I do hesitate to ask anyone to back it up for me.

And BTW, thanks for the manure spreader! 

Sincerely,

Liv

(This post was last modified: 11-18-2018, 09:44 AM by LivGolden.)