I’ve lacked inspiration, motivation, and honestly time and resources to write much so far this year. At times I’ve been to busy working, riding, and hanging out with friends. At times I’ve been to uninspired, lazy, and lacking the discipline and inspiration that caused me to create this blog in the beginning. The little voice that said, live your life, and write it here so you can look back on your progression through the years of your young adult life.
Certainly since the beginning of this blog I’ve been through intoxicating high’s in my life, and depressing low’s. Yet, never once has this blog given up on me, changed it’s opinion of me, or left me high and dry. It has never tried to turn me into the cops, lash back at me, or take anything from me. But, still I haven’t always fully confided to it my life happenings. I often write just about the good. The happy, the high’s, the things that turn out well are what often end up on these pages.
So today it was no surprise that I wanted to write. All the things I could have written about the last few weeks and suddenly I’m inspired to write when I’m good, when I do something right, when I know no one can deny the action was a positive one. Most of my life is unconventional, racy at times, and even sometimes down right controversial. We joke around about how I need my own reality show, because seriously, this stuff doesn’t happen to people without a script written by a group of people with a dry sense of humor.
However, to get to my good deed of the day. Back to the good things, my comfort zone.
I drove Lucas to school, the overcast sky not helping my tired mind and body. I dropped him off, wished him well, and continued on. I drove down the highway in front of the high school, I was driving slow unlike the cars around me. Lucas I had just talked about the fact that Landrum High School might be the only school in the universe with a school zone speed limit of 45, which we both agreed was high. So I was being conscious of my speed.
I left the school zone, still in no rush to get anywhere, and I suddenly see a dog darting out into the traffic of the highway. He is running TOWARDS the cars. Like obviously he wants to get in someones car and is scared about his position. He is darting towards minivans, suv’s, cars, and suddenly a semi. I’m sure I’m about to witness this little dog get wiped out, but I’ve already passed the church parking lot and am virtually unable to help him.
I pass by, thinking to myself I should have stopped. I reason with myself that someone else will have stopped, someone will grab the cute little dog, someone will make sure he doesn’t get hurt. I’m not in a position to be stuck with the little dog, I barely have enough gas money to get home, and I’m really wary about dropping animals off at the shelter. I pass by, and as soon as I get to the next road I realize I have to turn around. I love animals, and if I don’t at least try to help the little dog I probably will be sick with worry the rest of the day, and if he ends up getting hit and I see him on the side of the road tonight I will never forgive myself for looking the other way and hoping someone else would have taken care of it. I use a term from my years of expensive schooling to describe my action, the bystander effect. I was about to fall victim to the bystander effect, where I assume because there are so many people driving on this high way that SOMEONE will stop to help the dog. And, while this is not as drastic as some of the videos I’ve seen portraying the bystander effect, I know for a fact that I don’t want to give in to it.
So I reason with myself, if the little dog is still there when I get there I will pick it up and figure out what to do with it. If it’s not it either went home or someone else took the responsibility. As I pull into the church parking lot, I’m faced with my answer. The little brown and tan dog comes running towards my big truck.
I open the door, thinking he may just jump in. He’s a little stand-offish about jumping in the truck but he runs to me. Obviously overjoyed that someone finally realized he was lost and was willing to help him out. I pick him up, he smells like wet dog, I realize he probably weathered the storm outside last night. I put him in the front seat of the truck, and realize he doesn’t have much experience with car rides. He has no idea what to do, where to sit, and is really nervous about the situation. Just as I get him locked in and I’m about to put the truck in drive someone pulls into the church. I’m like sweet this must be her dog! She rolls her window down and is like I think he lives on John High. Sweet. Well now at least I have a starting place for the little dog.
I start rolling down John High, it’s a really long road. The first few houses don’t answer. Sweet. So I continue down the road. I finally approach a double wide on a hill, the car and house suggest a lower income family. I knock on the door, and an older woman answers. I ask if she is missing a dog, and she says I don’t live here. I get a little disheartened and am about to leave when she comes back to the door with a girl who can’t be too much older than me. She doesn’t look super enthusiastic about my presence.
I’m like, “Hi, are you missing a dog?” and she sadly responds that her daughter’s dog has been missing for two days and they haven’t been able to find him. I’m like check, it’s definitely a male dog. So I’m like, well it wouldn’t happen to be this little thing would it and I pick the dog up that I had sent on the porch. She starts freaking out. She said her daughter was at school today but had been crying herself to sleep about the pup since he went missing, she was overjoyed that I found him. She picked him up and brought him in the house and I could hear her telling him that he was never going to be allowed out of the house again. I smiled. It wasn’t that long ago I had been in her position and I remember what it felt like when I got to bring my very own pup back into the house after nights of staying up worrying that she would never return.
I turned around and headed down the stairs, and she came back outside and looked at me and said, “I can’t thank you enough for bringing him home, my little girl is going to be so happy when she gets off the bus and finds out he’s back. You’re an angel.”
So what if I only write about the happy times, maybe they’re the times I want to look back on and remember.
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