A couple of weeks ago, my phone rang on Sunday evening. It was my supervisor, Katie.
I was in the middle of cooking dinner, so I let it go to voice-mail.
I checked the message while dinner was in the oven and called her back.
“I need a wacky favor, if you’re up for it,” she explained. She had found a dog on Craigslist that she wanted to buy for her family, and it was in my general area. She didn’t want to go alone with her children (you know,it is Craigslist), and her husband was working – so would I be up for going with her?
I laughed. This is very much Katie- impulsive, yet endearing.
I told her I’d go and 20 minutes later she picked me up with her 5 and 2 year old daughters in the backseat.
The five year old told me that I should change my name from Jennifer to Jenny. And I should probably tell my Mom to call me Jenny.
The two year old stared at me.
As we began the adventure, Katie told me about the dog, a small yorkie that a family couldn’t have anymore. And that the house we were headed to was down a dirt road, “next to a car parked it a ditch.”
We laughed, both understanding that’s how all good horror movies start.
But the family was nice and she decided to buy the dog after meeting it, and we packed up the car with her daughters, the dog, and all of his supplies.
As we drove away she kept saying”What did I just do!? Who just buys a dog on a whim!? OMG am I crazy?!”
And I laughed. Remembering several times in my childhood when my Mom “impulsively” allowed us to buy a cat while we were waiting for my Grandmother to have testing done in New Hampshire. He rode all the way home on my lap, he was my Gemini, who spent 17 years being my purring buddy and raising Skeeter to have the utmost respect for Cats. And when she and my Dad let me have my Fritz, a puppy given to me by my babysitter. A dog who allowed me to feed him bottles and wrap him in a “raincoat” made of paper towels and yarn, and later howled at the end of the driveway everyday for me after I left home for college.Or Gryffindor, my Mom’s dog that we got on a whim because he was adorable and had the same birthday as my Grandmother.
As I smiled, remembering those times in my life, I turned to Katie and told her – “you aren’t crazy at all! Years from now your little girls will talk about the Sunday night that you brought this dog home for them. You’re making memories.”
And it may have taken 2 hours out of my Sunday night with my family, but I was truly happy to be part of their memory-making that night.