This past weekend, I was bamboozled. Worked over. Scammed. Taken advantage of.
This post is a warning, lest you too be taken in by small-town charm mixed with the crafty wiles of scheming 13-year-olds.
Theo spent the night with a friend on Saturday night. Sunday after church I was doing some work in the woodshop (AKA my neighbors’—Jacqueline’s parents—garage) when my oldest (and henceforth favorite for the foreseeable future) child called to say “hey, you might want to come up here to the house… it looks like Mrs. Tonya is about to give us a dog.”
Surely not. Surely my lawfully wedded wife would refuse the offer of a free puppy. After all, we have a beach trip in a few weeks! She remembers the last dogs we’ve had, and how much work and expense they are. After all, we have 2 dogs that essentially live with us!
I brushed off my favorite child, and hung up the phone.
It wasn’t until 15-or-so minutes later that I looked up and saw my wife with two beaming children walking down the gravel drive, carrying a little black-and-brown bundle.
“That had better not be our dog!” I yelled over the noise of the handheld electric sander. But all of their faces betrayed the simple fact: that was our new dog.
This is the third dog that Jacqueline and I have had since getting married, and keeping with tradition, we named him after a country music great. First we had Loretta, followed by Wynonna. So without further ado, I introduce the newest “Meredith:” Cash.
Here’s the bottom line, friends: Always check that there are no free puppies for the taking at a friend’s house, before agreeing to say yes to them spending even the briefest amount of time there.