The Dog That Came To Visit

After a few hours of effort, my daughter Randie and I had managed Sunday afternoon to festoon the exterior of the Fortress of Ineptitude with holiday cheer.

 

“Festoon” is a funny word. 

 

The decorating theme would be best described as White Trash Mobile Home Chic. Or there is no theme.  Bright white icicle lights merge with different warm hued white lights in the garland next to small colored lights in one group of hedges with another group of hedges with larger colored lights with large white lights around the base of one of our trees all awash in a dance of blue, pink and purple lights from our projector. 

 

It’s Christmas decorating by way of escapees from Arkham Asylum. 

 

When darkness fell, Randie and I went for a walk around the neighborhood to taken in the more subdued and tasteful displays of our less insane neighbors and behold the garish wonder of our own home upon our return.

 

On our way back, we gained a dog.

 

Randie is a sucker for any lost and lonely creature. In the spring and summer, she will scoop frogs out of the street and deposit them safely in the grass of the neighborhood lawns.  I think the frogs of our area have formed a religion around the benevolent giant goddess who guides frogs to safety.  

 

Sunday night, the lost critter that got Randie’s attention was a small dog, fluffy and white. This dog was friendly and calm, approaching Randie without hesitation as my daughter scooped her up in her arms.

 

Randie was worried.

 

The small dog seemed well cared for and healthy but was lacking a collar or any other identification. The temperature was dropping and there was no way Randie was going to allow us to leave this dog in the cold.

 

We were uncertain what to do. It seemed like a shot in the dark to just randomly knock on doors asking, “Is this your dog?”  And I had to also consider the possibility that this dog was not from around here at all.

 

Randie suggested we should take the dog back to the house. 

 

Lacking any other recourse, I said yes.  As we approached our home, I spoke to one of our neighbors who was sitting on his front porch. He has a small white fluffy dog but the dog we found wasn’t his dog. He still had his dog who was barking at me through the storm door as he does every time we go out for a walk, ferociously defending his domain from random passersby with all the energy his little frame could muster. Our neighbor’s dog was in stark contrast to the calm canine nestling in Randie’s arms with all the calm assurance of a Buddhist monk.  

 

We entered the Fortress of Ineptitude where our tiny canine visitor sniffed around the place a bit and then climbed on Randie’s lap where she was sitting in the living room.

 

This dog was in a strange house with strange people but as she calmly sat on Randie’s lap, the dog seemed to be thinking, “Well, I guess I live here now?” 

 

But not for long. Our doorbell rang and an anxious but now relieved woman was at our door, looking for her dog.

 

I imagine she may have spoken with the neighbor on the porch to see if he had seen her dog and he pointed her towards our house.

 

“Which house?” she asked.

 

“The one two houses down, decorated for Christmas in White Trash Mobile Home Chic,” he replied.

 

She told us the dog’s name was Cooper. Randie handed Cooper over to his grateful owner; Cooper seemed grateful to be returned to familiar hands.  

 

Randie had done a good thing, saving the lost dog from the cold and the dark, keeping the dog safe and warm until he was found.

 

But as the evening wore on, I could tell that Randie missed our visitor, no matter how brief the visit.

 

It was nice to meet you, Cooper. You are a good dog.