A funny thing happened on the way to Mari & Charlie’s brunch today.
We were in the middle of the no-man’s-land between Roxboro & Markham…you know, that part of The Worst-Designed Intersection in Durham (or is it in all of North Carolina?) where you’ve already crossed northbound Roxboro and are waiting for a break in the southbound traffic…when a car with a carousel horse on the roof pulls up next to us. It’s Madame deNerve and Miss Andrews…and a puppy. They found said critter running across Washington Street, chasing a mama bear that looked none too interested in continuing her role as Supplier of Free Milk. Mama had the remnants of a chain around her neck; either she had liberated herself or her human companions decided to comply with the new No Chained Dogs ordinance by contributing to Durham’s thriving population of stray dogs.
They knew we’d been discussing the possibility of getting a new dog, so they were actually on their way over to see us before bringing the little fella to the pound. Barry asked if I’d be OK with adopting the dog. I looked at his furry little face framed in their car window, the serious expression, the adorable brown puppy eyebrows, and said “I’m already in love with him.”
So we went to the brunch for a bit, then returned to pick up our new dog from the neighbors. They were calling him Elijah, after Barry’s favorite bourbon, although we’re not committed on a name yet. He’s probably part rottweiler, although the mom was something different. He’s a furry little bear cub, who likes to snuggle in a den, and already runs after Barry with his tail wagging every time the Big Dog walks across the room.