The Wacko Wednesday

It wasn’t a day that went exactly as I had planned. Which is how most of my days end up going, so that wasn’t a total surprise in itself.

It started like any other day. I showered, got breakfast ready for everyone, and the kids started in on their chores and schoolwork, while I wrapped up some work for a client.

That afternoon following lunch, I headed off to the chiropractor. (side note: I think everyone needs regular, routine chiropractic care. It helps so much more than an achy back. Neurologically, mentally, systemically – all of it can be adjusted and improved with the help of a chiropractor!)

Once I got home from the chiropractor, I told the kids to grab a jacket and load up in the pickup. We were going on an adventure to see some newborn lambs.

We met some of the kids’ friends there, and spent about an hour (in the chilly wind…) admiring the sure-sign of spring, while the mother sheep stomped their hooves at us and baaa’d at each other incessantly.

From there, we headed home, an extra child in our vehicle so Little Miss could entertain a playmate before heading to our Wednesday night activities.

About half a mile from our driveway, I saw something in the middle of the road. As I got closer, it hopped up and started bouncing. I slowed down, then eventually stopped. A corgi started jumping all around, shaking her little bottom in excitement. I got out of the pickup and asked where she came from, but she just sought petting in reply.

Eventually, she jumped into the cab of our pickup truck. She was so sweet and so friendly, I didn’t mind all that much, but wondered how this was going to play out.

Quick point of fact: I am very much allergic to dogs.

I called Hubs from right there in the middle of the road and said, “I have an extra child and a dog in our truck.”


“Also, I need you to cook something for these kids for dinner, so that I can try to find out where this dog came from.”


“Or you can try to find where this dog came from…”

“I don’t like any of these options.”

“Okay, I’m dropping the kids off. I love you.”


So that’s what I did. I dropped the kids off at the house, and I turned around and started a mission to find where this corgi belonged.

I drove to a neighbor’s that was about 1/4 mile from where I found the dog and pulled into the driveway.

Another point of fact: I have never met any of the people who live on our road.

I rang the doorbell, no answer. I knocked on the door, no answer. I turned around to step down off their front step when I heard a distinct “click” from the pickup.

“No… no… no….!” as I ran back and tried to open the driver’s side door. Corgi pup was resting her paws at the window, panting happily, turning her head side to side wondering why I was just standing outside.

Well, that was because her little paws had locked me out of the pickup.

“Push the button! Push the button!” I tried to point down like she would understand, but she continued to stare at me wondering when I was going to open the door.

Thankfully, I had my phone in my hand, and quickly called Hubs again. First, I had to switch it to my phone from the bluetooth in the pickup because from inside the cab I heard him saying, “Hello? Hello?”

Finally speaking from my phone, I told him, “The dog locked me out of the pickup.”

“What?” (The “what?”s were getting a little more intense.)

“I need you to drive down to the neighbor’s with the spare set of keys and unlock the pickup for me.”

“Wh…. Where are you?”

“Just drive, you’ll see me. Bring the keys.”

He hung up and within a few minutes he pulled into the neighbor’s driveway, I heard the truck doors click again, I opened the door, and he continued driving, turning around in the driveway and heading back to the house.


I backed up from where I had parked, humbled by the lesson I had just learned about having animals in the vehicle, and started to turn around out of the driveway when a man came sauntering out of the shop building next to the house, a confused look on his face.

So I stopped and introduced myself to the neighbor and asked if the dog was his or if he knew where it came from. He answered no to both of those questions.

Knowing everyone around the area, he was trying to connect with people who might know who the dog belonged to and also engage in friendly new neighbor chat. All the while the friendly corgi pup was climbing, crawling, and laying all. over. me.

I knew I had to get out of that neighbor’s driveway in short order because I could feel the allergies trying to take possession of my very soul. My eyes were itching, my throat was feeling smaller, and my voice was dropping octaves at an alarming rate.

I drove the pup to a house in town where there just happen to be Corgi breeders, who happen to be the one household in our tiny town we actually know. They took the dog in to keep it safe until we could locate or track down where it came from and return it to its home.

I went back to the house where Hubs had made brinner for dinner (eggs, bacon, and orange slices) for the kiddos, and after they finished eating, we loaded up once again and drove them to their activities.

While we were out, I got a call from the neighbor I had met and chatted with that the owners had been discovered, and the pup belonged to a family right at the bottom of the hill from our house. After we picked up the kiddos, we headed back to our tiny town, picked up the dog, and drove her back to her family.

I carried her to the door, her little hind end wagging the whole way. They were glad to be reunited with her and to know she had been taken care of.

Once I got back into the pickup as Hubs drove us back to the house, I started scratching an itch on my wrist. Then on my hand. Then on my arm. Then on my neck. I went inside and checked in the light and sure enough, I had welts.

I had broken out in hives.

Not only were my allergies affecting my sinuses and giving me a Barry White voice, but now I had hives breaking out all over.

I took my second shower of the day, took my bazillionth allergy med of the day, and hoped I could at least get some sleep after the wacko Wednesday it had been.

Dogs beeline for me, despite me spending most of my life trying to avoid them because of said allergies. This incident in particular was a smidge different, with us having a chance meeting in the middle of a dirt road, but she seemed especially happy to see me and jump in my pickup.

I was miserable for several hours, but the truth is, I’d do it again to save a pooch. Especially one as sweet and friendly as this one was.

Hubs, however, might prefer I not go places without him from now on, with me bringing in extra kids and animals and all…

Another point of fact: We will never (achoo!) own a corgi.

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