25 April 2007

Where I work* ...

Sometimes it's good to be the hero.

So, Dr. D (the chiropractor) drops his Lexus off for some work and needs a ride to his office. No prob. I have Mrs. F's Explorer and I toss his laptop and bag in the back and take off with him. We're not 3 blocks from the shop on the Avenue and I see the guy in front of me slam on his brakes and swerve right. I tell the Doc to hold on and hit the brakes. What do I see walking down the middle of the double-yellow lines but a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel pup.

Now, there are trucks and cars and crazy soccer moms zipping up and down and I know he's gonna be killed so I throw the car sideways and put on my 4-ways. I jump out and run over to the little guy and he flops on his side and wags his tail. I scoop him up and run back to the car, the Doc screaming that somebody's gonna run into us (it's a curvy road and I'm parked in the middle, just past a curve). I hop in and toss the dog into Shayna's spot, throwing the car in gear and taking off.

"What are ya gonna do?" The Doc asks.

"I'm gonna drop you off and then bring him back. I'm sure I'll find some sad looking people wandering around near where we found him," I say, looking back to see the little guy already got comfortable and was sound asleep. I drive the Doc to his office and as I pull into the parking space the pup wakes up, hops onto the center console, and into my lap. I look at his collar for the first time and I see a rabies tag; a smile crosses my face as I see they use the same vet Shayna does. And then I see the next tag:

My name is:

My phone is:
(516) 676-XXXX

"Hi, Otis," I say as he licks my face.

"What's the number?" The Doc says as he whips out his cell.

I read it to him. He calls and leaves a voicemail saying that Otis was safe at the shop and giving the address. I thank him and head back, Otis on my lap, his chin resting on my arm as he looks out the window. It took about 10 minutes and as I come up the Avenue, I see a car pull into the lot and a woman and a little girl get out. They go over to Indian and Harry as I drive up and I knew they were Otis' family, his tail was beating it's way through my chest when he saw them.

Now, Indian and Harry knew nothing of this and I saw Harry shrug to the woman as I lowered the window. "Are ya looking for this?" I said as Otis stuck his head out the window.

You know, I'm a pretty tough guy, but I melted when I saw the little girl's face light up when she saw her pup. When she said "yay, Mister, you saved Otis," it made my year.

Even our idiot President dancing around like Boris Yeltsin on crack couldn't ruin my mood.

*Part of an ongoing, semi-regular series.

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