i have nothing to write about today. the most exciting thing that's happened recently is that when i got to work this morning i discovered something had pooped on my desk.
so, instead of delving into all the nasty details of my foul fecal findings, i'm going to share a story that doesn't belong to me.
i wish it did.
but this story would never happen to me, because, truth be told, i hate dogs. and i especially hate dead dogs. and i would've probably let it rot.
i'm getting ahead of myself. you're confused and about to x out of this window and see what's new on youtube--come back! it's a good story, i promise.
we'll call the girl in the story sarah, because i didn't ask permission to share her story and maybe she won't read this but if she does maybe she'll be too daft to realize it's about her. or she'll sue me. whatever.
so. here we go.
sarah is going to house-sit an elderly couple's house for a week. the day before they leave, they give her the run-down: where everything is, what not to do, how to do the things she needs to do, and so on. the final instructions are regarding the couple's sick old dog. their huge sick old dog.
"he's been acting strange lately," says the owner of the house, "and he's been sick a long time. he's an old dog, and we wouldn't be surprised if he died soon...if it happens while you're in charge, it's ok, it's not your fault. just take him to the vet and they'll take care of him."
so the couple go on vacation and the dog dies the next day.
now comes the forboding task of getting the dead dog body to the vet. getting the huge dead dog body to the vet.
sarah is resourceful. she is more considerate than those of us who would pretend that we didn't notice the dog had died so we wouldn't have to deal with him. (that's right. please don't ever ask me to babysit your dog if it might die. or if it might live.)
she puts the old dog into one of the elderly couple's suitcases-the kind that you can wheel around when it's too heavy.
and she wheels rover down to the bus stop.
the bus pulls up and she realizes she's not strong enough to get the suitcase of deceased canine on board. cue helpful stranger, who is more than willing to help her heft the load onto the bus. they sit near each other and she protectively hunches over the suitcase. please don't ask what's in the bag, please don't ask what's in the bag, please don't ask what's in the bag...
"that suitcase sure is heavy. what you got there?" the kind stranger asks.
this is another 'where her and i are different' moments. i woulda been like, "a dog corpse," just to see, you know.
but she is mortified at the thought. she blushes a deep red and mumbles, "stereo equipment." way to save face, sarah.
he nods, satisfied. "well. sure is heavy stuff."
so then, they arrive at her stop, the one where she needs to get off. she stands, braces the suitcase so as to make sure the contents won't spill out, revealing her as some sort of dog-killing sicko, and heads for the door. the stranger offers her a hand, again. because he really is just that good of a person.
he hoists the bag off of the bus.
and dissapears into the crowd.
sarah stares at his quickly retreating form in shock. i've been robbed.
then, she shrugs her shoulders and gets back on the bus.
the old couple doesn't mind; the suitcase probably costs less than the vet's fees.
but i would pay a million dollars to see the look on the man's face when he got to the pawn shop and discovered his stereo equipment was actually a rotting dog.
there's some sort of life lesson in this story somewhere...
something about dogs being stupid. and how you shouldn't steal unless you're really really sure that what you're stealing isn't rapidly decomposing.