2003-11-22 - 5:24 p.m.
dear diary,
i don't think that i've told you about the call of the wild the whole time we've known each other.
but about seven or eight times a year, a random dog or dogs wander up into my house looking for shelter or food or love.
it's gotten to the point that it's almost ridiculous now when it happens so much so that i take every visit as a sign.
so last night's dog was bloody and muddy and tired and not very well taken care of. the humane society said they would take him for five days and then they would put him down.
when i told them he was not neutered they said "four days."
then i told them he was a pitbull and they said "three days."
and then i told them he needed to see a vet for a bad leg and some bloody scratches and they suggested i find a different method since i was "so against" euthanizing him.
so now i have a clean, gentle sweet pitbull that needs to find a home in one day before i leave for north carolina on monday.
today was supposed to be the day that i did all of the laundry and the shopping and the packing and the preparing. instead, today was dog cleaning, fliers, phone calls, door to door visits and newspaper lost and found ads.
it's one of those days where i feel like the odd man out, in all things. i don't fucking understand people. i don't understand this world. i don't understand "typical protocol" and just when i think i'm cynical enough to find my niche, a bloody dog shows up.
without fail.
i guess the upswing of course is that the dog totally humped my friend from california and that brightened this weekend up immensely.