Saturday we took all but one puppy in to give away. This was supposed to be BERT and the kids' job. It was
their dog, and
their (Bert's) fault. I'd made that very clear from the beginning. Wouldn't you know, that fifteen minutes before they leave, Bert would legitimately have to default. I could not believe my luck. I stammered, stamped my foot, silently screamed, and just about cried (example to the kids be damned.) I did
not want to go peddle unwanted dogs in a
Walmart parking lot for everybody to see. And although it was totally out of my comfort zone, the need to get rid of dogs won over.
We caught the flea infested things and put them in laundry baskets. Every time we would turn around they had jumped out and we'd have to start over. When we found a larger container they figured out that if four of them would stand and lean on one side, they could get it to fall over. Finally we worked out something more suitable and shoved them in the car, with a jug of water, some towels, and puppy food. Then we pushed ourselves in as well. We were silent the whole way to Walmart. When we got there, we slowly cased the area. I hung my head in shame. I just couldn't do it. Eight yapping dogs or no. The kids sighed. They mentioned we could try another area. They had seen some people and dogs at the tractor store, what about trying that? So, I drove over hoping my backbone would stiffen with the added elevation. Three other dog owners had already set up camp. However, they were pure bred breeders. Complete with papers, a sunshade and running kennels for their dogs. Our baskets just looked a little too amateurish. What to do, what to do... I parked clear far away and said, "Ok kids, go set up." "But aren't you coming with us?" "No." "Could you park closer?" "Nope." (I like to think that I probably would have broken down and helped out at some point, but at that moment a tractor store lady came out and told all those dog owners they had to get off their property.) Half relieved, the kids clambered back in. I said, "The last place I can think of is that parking lot where that man was selling all those watermelons. I
might be able to get my courage up enough to help you there. Should we try?" Maddie said, "Yes. But HURRY! I see that chiuaua lady is leaving and I bet that's where she's going to go too. We
have to get there first. Hey! And she has a sign in her window! (Chiuauas for sale) Quick, where's our sign?" So as they scrambled to find it under the eight yapping dogs, I gunned the engine to beat her out to the light. It was close, but you shouldn't have doubted me. I made it. Sure enough, she tailed us all the way to the empty parking lot. We were so intent on beating her and the other three dog owners, that we forgot our embarrassment. We stuck our sign on the front of the car, put the dogs in the baskets (no fancy umbrella for us), and sat down to gloat in our win. We had people from all walks, and I do mean ALL walks of life come by. (We've gone from praying for a home for the puppies, to praying
for the puppies
in their new home.)
Low and behold, within an hour we were down to one pup. We changed the sign from 'Free Puppies' to 'One Male Puppy - Free'. Then we sent Maddie (who was fearless) out to the corner of the street to wave the sign and
wag the dog in front of oncoming cars. She cuddled the puppy up close to her face and made the paw of the dog wave to all the cars. She put a big pout on her face and put the sign on her belt. It was the funniest thing ever. It was much needed comic relief to an otherwise unpleasant situation. And then a policeman pulls up (by now we had made friends with the Yorkie, Chiuaua, and wienie dog ladies). The policeman got out and talked to all of our friends. Maddie saw him pull in and ran back to us. We were too busy watching the policeman to notice her. We didn't see until later what she had done. She had run back to the car grabbed a pencil, and changed the sign. It now said, "Male Puppy - Free. PLEASE HURRY, POLICE" Then she'd reattached it and run back to the corner to wave that poor puppies paw even faster. The policeman never came over to us. We were puzzled. As he got in his car to drive away, I walked over to him and asked if we needed to pack up and leave. He said, "Well, I figured yours are probably free?" That obvious? Blush. "Yes". "Then you're just fine. It's just the others who need a permit." He smiled and as he drove away he said, "You can tell your little girl she can slow down."
And that was that. Before his wheels left the parking lot, Maddie's persistence had paid off. We had gone from Bob Barkers worst nightmare, back to a respectable two dog family. We got in the car, blew a sigh of relief and decided we (fleas and all) had well earned a pop and taco from Taco Bell.
One of the few times Hy voluntarily touches Cache ;)
