May 18, 2009
Remember in Pride and Prejudice, when Elizabeth Bennett is described as having “a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in any thing ridiculous”? Well, this story fits in with that description.
Yesterday I had to take Phoebe to the Urgent Care Center. (She’s fine, by the way.) As we drove away, we had to take the little two-lane access road which runs from the doctors office to the main street. It was pretty deserted, being Sunday afternoon, so I was surprised to notice a little dog, some kind of Chiguagua mix just wandering next to the road. A quick scan around assured me that no owner stood nearby. I stopped the car and got out. The dog came near and sniffed my hand, and I scooped her up and into the car, where I read on her tag that her name was “Zoe” and quickly dialed the phone number on the tag.
Meanwhile, Zoe was hooting and sniffing around our van, much to Phoebe’s delight. She was a very sweet dog.
When a man answered, I explained I had found his dog. He asked where I was and I told him, and he said, “Oh, we live nearby. Just let her go and she’ll come home. She always does.” Okay, I thought.
I got out of the van, holding the dog, and crossed over the other side of the street to set her down. Just then a man pulled up behind me in his car, trying to drive out to the street. He eyed me with confusion as I let this dog down and the dog proceeded to meander across the road in front of this man’s car. He looked at me like, “What the heck are you doing, setting your dog free right here?”
I smiled and shrugged, wanting him to roll down his window so I could explain the circumstance. He didn’t, and I felt rather foolish. Finally Zoe moved out of the way and I got back into my van.
That was a ridiculous experience, just imagining how this looked from the man in the car’s perspective. I just had to chuckle at it, and myself. Just call me Elizabeth.