As I convalesced, my Mom picked up Danny from school yesterday. We had dinner, and on the way back to our place, Danny and I saw a dog run across Roswell Road.
“A Chihuahua,” Danny screamed. Actually, it was an Italian Greyhound. Tiny and skittish, it ran down the street watching the cars swerving by it. I sat behind the steering wheel with a lump in my throat and a sick feeling in my stomach.
Danny asked where the “Chihuahua” was going, and I said, “Probably home to its family.” As I made the left turn onto our street, I changed my mind and made a U-Turn, heading in the direction of the Chihuahua/Italian Greyhound.
Danny asked, “Are we going to find the Chihuahua?” Yes, yes we were.
We traveled southbound on Roswell Road, and I pulled into a parking lot of a strange-looking building. After doing some internet sleuthing back at home last night, it turns out it was a Scientology Center.
I picked Danny up, and we started walking around the parking lot and calling out for the dog.
Danny tried to make little kissing sounds with his mouth and gave up, and instead yelled, “Hey doggie! We’re over here! Wanna see the new Transformers pajamas my Grammy got me?” I’m sure Tom Cruise, eyeing us from inside his mecca, enjoyed that one.
Being so close to the street, I carried Danny around like an idiot, seeing as how I almost fainted from the “exertion” of eating at a Thai restaurant and walking to the back of a CVS to pick up medicine at the pharmacy the night before.
We continued to search the perimeter for the doggie, but gave up after about fifteen minutes. Although our rescue mission was unsuccessful, I didn’t faint and Danny learned that it’s important to help homeless animals on the street. (As long as they are small and don’t have fangs, as we discussed later.) So we high-fived.
I heard Danny telling George the story this morning, and George is looking around the house saying, “Where is the dog? Is the dog here? What did you two do?” Like I’m the type of person to rescue a homeless dog, bring it home, and then hide it from someone else. PFFFT. (I totally have done that.)
Danny explained, “Nooooo, the doggie ran home to be with its family. But I liked the Chihuahua, even though it didn’t want to see my pajamas.”