Dog for sale: FREE.

The kids are napping, it's storming out, and I have a cup of coffee in hand.  And I'm actually writing.  Also, I am sitting in a long maxi dress with my husband's golf cap on my head. In case you were wondering what I was wearing too.

And I'm writing. And If I just quit talking about writing, and actually do it, then I may even just publish it today {as in, hit "publish}}. Instead of scheduling out for two weeks and then forgetting about it.

I found my dog.

That's a good starting point. Well, before I found him, I lost him. And by lost him, I mean I saw him sprint in between my legs and 4 other tiny legs out the back door and across the neighbors out of sight barking and howling like a free animal. He was, at this point, a free animal.

Now, I know the first reaction of any reader when hearing about a lost animal is... "Oh no, I hope you found him." Two things about that. One, it's not that sad of a situation {he's run away about 20 times this year alone}. And two, I did find him, unfortunately.

You see, time after time, I would do just that. Throw the baby on my hip, and tell Elliana to follow along as we walked around trying to follow the sound of his bark {the one the whole neighborhood probably swears about}, and then proceed to chase him down and brink him back. When he would get far out, I'd even get in the car and go looking. Since then, I've learned.

Clearly haven't learned a way to keep his fast little sneaky paws out the door, but learned how to not run after him anymore. It's pretty easy actually.... you just don't.

Let us get back to today. Three hours had passed.

THREE. The longest. I called Andrew and told him that I think some child had probably found him at this point, taken him in, and begged their mommy to keep him. I sit here on the couch snickering as this dog lays right next to my hip digging his head in the pillow, and my side. Snickering because clearly no one found and him, and second, because who would want to keep such a crazy animal.

So where were we? I get distracted easily.

Three hours had passed, I probably looked out the window and stepped on my front porch a good 30 times during the last hour {the first 2 were spent outside with the kids} listening/looking for the dog, and finally decided to put the kids down for their naps as a storm was heading our way.

I heard the pouring down hard rain and thunderstorms while I was nursing Graham and thought to myself---Carson hates the rain. That he does. If there is one way to get this dog inside, it would be it--rain.

After I headed downstairs, I looked out the window to check out the weather only to find a very familiar looking dog sitting on my front porch {that just so happens to be covered}. And yes, by familiar, I mean the exact same dog.

I let him in, dry him off with a towel, give him a bowl of water and food, and curse him under my breath. Hopefully he found some female friends on his wild escapade out in the neighborhood. Hopefully he scouted out some good kids too and figured out how to swoon them also. Hopefully he realized how much more fun a warm cozy home is with good quality food {hello toddlers be throwing their food to him all day long} than out in the wild with rain pouring down on him.

Who am I kidding here, he knew what he was doing and he knew he'd be back to his "safe haven" in no time.

I'd offer a reader a free dog, but we all know the last time I wrote about Carson I had some crazy folks down my throat accusing me of just giving up on him and letting him die {essentially} from not being loved. Sorry, I had to laugh there for a second.

So, anyone want a free dog?

Joking.
Kind of.

He can go to the highest bidder. Bidding will start at:

FREE.

Clearly, he'll probably live to be 80 just to torture us as long as possible. And laugh while doing so too.

Sigh.

Man, I got so side-tracked with this smelly wet dog laying next to me that I never even got to show the beautiful pictures I took this morning. I mean, they're pretty standard. But I took pictures.... that right there is BIG. And they aren't of a dog, I promise.

Tomorrow. I'll save them for tomorrow.