A Date with Destiny

My doorbell rang unexpectedly at like ten o'clock yesterday morning. Which was weird because hardly anybody ever drops by unannounced - because people who know me know that my kids are generally naked, and they really need to call first lest they be subjected to a naked schlong (or three). And it was especially unusual because it was a Sunday. Random doorbell-rings almost never happen on a Sunday.

When I went to the door, there stood a guy. With a bike. And a baby. And a very little girl. And a pug.

"Sorry to bother you," he said apologetically, "but we were just out on a bike ride and found this dog. I think it's lost. May I use your phone to call the number on its tag?"

He didn't look like a murderer, and he had the little kids with him, and he was holding a dog, so my brain registered the threat level as low. (Although, I don't know, that's probably how people like me get killed.) Anyway, I dialed the number as he read it off the dog's tag, then handed him the phone.

After a few seconds, he frowned. "Hmm," he said. "It says the voice mailbox is full. I can't leave a message."

I squatted down and read all the info on the little pug's tags. Her name was Destiny. And her address was ... somewhere in Idaho? Wow. That could be a problem, since we live in Iowa.

"I'm not sure what to do," the guy said. "I can't really take her with me." He gestured to the bike and the two kids in tow, and I agreed; there was no way he could really transport the dog too. So I did what any other sucker animal lover would do.

"I'll take her," I said. "It shouldn't be too hard to find her owners."

I brought her in the house, and first things first, gave her a bath. I don't know how long she'd been roaming the 'hood, but she was wet and muddy. Then I set about the bidness of trying to find her people. Since the number on her tag was no good, I called the office of the vet where her rabies vaccination tag originated. No answer. So I Googled the address on her ID tag, which brought up one result with a different phone number. But when I called that number, it had been disconnected - go figure. I searched for the owner's name and found nothing meaningful (except for like 1700 people with the same generic first and last name on Facebook). I called the local Humane Society to see if she'd been reported missing; she hadn't, but the lady I spoke to suggested that I email them a detailed description and photo of her. So I did that.

It seemed like I was running into dead end after dead end. In the meantime, Destiny was making her puggy little self right at home. She instantly developed a rapport with Josie, our chocolate lab, and bonded with the boys - who fell totally in love with her.

While I was using my mad detective skillz to track down Destiny's owner, Curtis left the house to go to the store. He returned within five minutes. "I've found Destiny's family!" he said triumphantly. Apparently he'd been driving through the neighborhood and spotted someone outside with two pugs and a "Pug Rescue" t-shirt on, and figured he should stop to ask them if they were missing one. And turns out, they were. I couldn't help but feel a little pang of sadness when he ushered the dog into the car, but I knew someone would be very happy to have their sweet pug back home.

Imagine my surprise when my phone rang a few minutes later.

"So here's the story," Curtis said from the other end. "Destiny's a rescue. Her previous owners weren't very nice to her, so these people took her and two other pugs in. They're looking for new homes for them all."

I don't even know why he called to ask. I mean, seriously? He knows that if it were up to me, we'd house every needy animal between here and Mexico. So that's how we ended up with this ...

 Isn't she so ugly - er, pugly - she's cute?

I didn't wake up yesterday morning expecting to have a new dog by the end of the day - it was like that show I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant, canine companion style - but I'm pretty glad it worked out that way. She's friendly, patient, well-mannered, and 100% potty trained (yay!). And it's seriously weird how quickly she's assimilated to our loud, crazy family - it's like she's been gone and is just now coming home. She fits right in.

I guess it's destiny. Literally.