Our Crazy 4th of July

Our 4th of July started off as planned...we went to church, had a very nice lunch at McAlister's with our small group, and then took the kids home for nap time. A little after five, we loaded up the kids and set out for our friends' house. When we got to their neighborhood, we were surprised to see a healthy-looking yellow lab, with a collar and a tag, jogging down the street. Since we are dog owners, and since our dogs' have gotten out a fair number of times, we decided to pull over and check the dogs tags. Unfortunately, the tag was just a rabies tag from a clinic in Panama City, Florida. I called the number on the tag, but, since it was 6 pm on a Sunday night (not to mention the 4th of July), there was no answer.

We spent the next 20 minutes calling the Humane Society, Animal Control, an animal hospital, and even the Hoover Police Department, all to no avail. (The police department at least had a very helpful automated message advising the caller to dial 911 in case of emergency.) Now, twenty minutes late, we drive into our friends' neighborhood with the dog in the back of our SUV. We've only been to this house once before, and it was in the dark, so we are a both a little unsure about exactly which house it is. I call my friend several times, but she doesn't hear the phone ringing (and therefore doesn't answer).

So we go with our best guess and knock on that door, but nobody is home. We try a couple more houses before someone comes to the door. The kind gentleman who lives there tells us that the house we had tried first was in fact the one we were looking for. So we head back to that house to try again. After about five minutes of ringing and knocking (and a little peeking in the window), we realize that there must have been a miscommunication, and that our friends are, in fact, not home.

So we get back in the car and begin a frustrated discussion of what to do with the dog. I want to let it go and see if it goes back home and Marcus wants us to take it back to our house until the owner can be located. While we are "discussing", the dog is panting and drooling all over the back of my car, and at one point it hacks up a hair ball. We are all frustrated and hungry, and I do NOT want the dog to puke in my car, so I acquiesce my side of the argument and we drive the 25 minutes back to our house, with the dog. By now, the kids have been in the car for an hour and a half, and they have not had the dinner or the fun I promised them, so that is what is foremost on my mind. Marcus wants to drive back to the other neighborhood and put up signs up about the dog, so he does that while I feed the kids.

This is really where the story should have ended, but, unfortunately, it didn't. There is something in me that never wants to give up trying to salvage something. In this case, it was celebrating the 4th of July with my kids. What I should have done is just given the kids a bowl of ice cream and let them watch a Disney movie. But, instead, I silenced the inner voice that told me to cut my losses and call it a day, and called a friend to see what she and her kids were doing for the 4th.

To be continued...

Billy Bob, the dog.