Synchronicity

I am on a synchronicity roll.

Last week at work, I had been speaking to a co-worker on my way to the kitchen for some ice and water. I picked the exact moment to leave the conversation, get to the kitchen where I had to open the door to the ice machine, find the same twit had thrown the scoop into the ice instead of putting into the slot on the side. I knew who the twit was. A few days earlier, I had gone into the kitchen just after the ice machine door was slammed, and the scoop thrown into the ice. Chasing him down and tackling him to explain about sanitary use of communal kitchen tools may have given me a bad reputation, so I didn’t.

This day, I pulled a paper towel off and shoved my hand in with it to pull out the well-buried ice scoop. I happened to be pulling it out and cursing right at the moment when the twit came in for ice. I was then able to vent to him innocently about the morons who can’t even put the scoop back.

This morning, I had come to work late. I am usually a very prompt and in-my-chair-at-8:30 kind of employee. <cough cough> But I had a good reason to be late, which will be my 3rd example of recent synchronity. The 2nd follows. I had gone into the hallway looking for today’s newspaper, which belonged to my boss. Just as I realized it was gone, the culprit…er, person who removed it came along and I mentioned to him that someone took off with my bosses’ paper, again. This happens when he is travelling. Well, he told me he had it. The timing was impeccable.

This brings me to number three, which is a little bigger. I had just been e-mailing someone last week about how I seldom see fawn Dobermann in rescue. The other colors outnumber them. I had remembered one, ONE!, in several years. So this morning, as I pulled unusually late out of my driveway and drove two houses down to the corner, do you know what was there? A handsome fawn Dobermann, fully intact, no collar, no ID, nothing. He was naked and discussing his day with the elderly man who was walking his 50-pound Italian Greyhound. I have never seen a fat IG till I moved to this neighborhood.

After discerning the dog was not his, I asked if he could persuade him to hang around while I backed down the street to get a sturdy leash and collar. By the time I did that, this man and the dogs had walked a 3-block length. How nice!

I started walking fast. Then when in sight, I did something I should not do. I ran. OK, sort of a run. Then when I figured that was a big mistake, I whistled. My whistle is by no means extraordinary. In fact, it’s rather pitiful, but it did get Mr. Fawn’s attention, in addition to the old man and his fat IG. I heard the man exclaiming about how he couldn’t keep up with the Dobe and was watching him. Uh huh.

Well, I am happy to say that this Dobie fellow met me half way. I put a lovely rose printed Lupine humane slip collar on him, and walked him back to my house. I thought I could leave him in the back yard while I went to work.

Handsome fellow

That idea did not pan out. He was scratching the fence and its door, and I was certain I’d have a gaping hole and no Dobie by the time I got home.

He is another youngster that is very full of himself. I figured this out while I was in the backyard figuring out other things. Like how to get to work, save this dog’s life, not intermingle him and my dogs, and that’s when I saw he had quite a tummy ache. He had a bit of diarrhea. So that kept me busy, throwing down Clorox and hosing off the spots he chose to decorate. While in between, he marked every favorite spot my boys have to mark and a few new ones.

Pee-peeing Dobie Boy

I decided the best thing was to take him to the shelter before work, so I hauled Raven’s crate out of the house and put it in the bed of my truck. I then got full cooperation with Mr. Fawn who jumped right on the back of the truck! Unfortunately, I couldn’t fit him in while Raven was still in the crate, so my evil scheme to innocently drop Raven at the shelter didn’t pan out.

OK, I’m kidding. I took Raven out of the crate before I put the crate in the truck and Mr. Fawn in the crate.

Here he is…ready to go!

Do you think I could lift that crate up with her in it? Nope. So I played musical crates and Ginger’s crate housed Raven. Raven was not happy, so later in the day, she took it out on Luigi and shoved her nose up his lips when playing tug-o-war with the Halloween Cuz ball.

Raven shoving her nose up Luigi’s lip.  Luigi’s a saint!

I dropped off Mr. Fawn and put a deposit on him. If the owner doesn’t claim him in 4 days, FDPRR will get him. That will be without the balls he carried in with him, and I’m not talking Cuz balls. He really needs to be clipped now before he gets too carried away with his wild and roaming instincts, which could to lead to habit, and harder to break. Not to mention, it’s healthier for him in the long run.

You may be thinking, why take him to a shelter? My local shelter is one of the good ones, keeps disease down low, and has a staff who cares about the animals. It gives the owner a chance to find his dog, and if the dog isn’t found, the dog will be neutered, vaccinated, heartworm tested, dewormed, tatooed, and given any antibiotic he may need. The rest of the vetting and care he may need will go on after that, but this is a good start.

When I returned to work, the lovely and friendly parking attendant asked me why I was so late. I explained, and she told me she had a chihuahua type pup she needed someone to take because she can’t have it in her 4 bedroom house. She has 3 other dogs and a small yard. Never mind…let’s not go there. I told her just to send the picture to me, and we’ll see who might have a rescue spot for it. I must remember to be more creative when I tell people the truth.

When I returned home for our daily lunch break, I had to clean Raven’s crate out with Clorox and water, and hose with disinfectant as much of the pee spots as I could remembe. But all that didn’t cover up the fact that we had an intact male in the back yard. The other boys sniffed around in disgust and insult.

Inspector Luigi

After work, I came home and my Doberchildren and I enjoyed the beautiful South Florida sunset. I will never tire of Mother Earth’s canvas.

Beautiful South Florida Sunset

Nor will I tire of Her sense of humor at times like when She sends the Golden Frog with a klunk to land on the pitch dark window right in front of me. Eeek!

Golden Frog pays a visit

Handsome character! And another point of synchronicity. Had I not been sitting at the window at the moment of contact, I wouldn’t have enjoyed that moment of exhilaration when my heart jumped and jived.

Ribbit.

About Helen

I'm a Southern California living in South Florida. I've been here for 10 years as of October 1, 2007. No matter where I live, I'm a dog lover, and my breed is the Dobermann Pinscher of the Working Group. I am also fond of the Australian Shepherd of the Herding Group. My life revolves around my dogs, which is something those family members of mine don't understand. So I'm an island in that respect, but have built friendships with those who are doggie lovers and respect the canine as much as I do. Some do rescue, some train in, compete in, and judge AKC trials. The common thread is our dogs are family.
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