You Don't Know What You Want Till It's Gone

Farmer H sure knows how to tug at my heartstrings. I'm not so sure tug is the correct term. I'm pretty sure he's trying to rip my heart right out of my chest.

This morning it was his duty to wake me in time to get ready for a movie date. The awakening was accomplished by sitting in the living room in his La-Z-Boy and yelling, "It's time to get up!" Which is not so very horrible. It's what he said next.

"I've got something to show you."

That is NEVER something you want to hear from Farmer H. Especially in the morning, when you're laying in bed, still a little groggy.

"I bet you do. That doesn't mean I want to see it."

"Just a minute. I have to find it."

"That doesn't sound good."

"No. It was right here. Now it's gone. Give me a minute."

"I'm going to get in the shower. I don't have time for this."

When I got out of the shower, Farmer H was still sitting in his La-Z-Boy. He was holding his hand over his head. Out over the back of the chair.

"Here. I've got it now."

I picked up one of my four current pairs of glasses, in varying prescriptions, two of which reside on the table next to the La-Z-Boy. I squinted at Farmer H's hand, which held his phone. The screen went black.

"You'll have to show me more than that."

"Oh. Here."

It was a picture of Puppy Jack. In a kitchen, standing over a bowl of dry dog food, bits of kibble scattered on the tile. WAIT A MINUTE! That wasn't Puppy Jack!

"A lady put it on Facebook this morning. 'Free to good home. Pepper. A weenie heeler mix. She's five months old. Okay with kids, but nips their fingers.' I thought you'd like to see her. She looks just like Jack."

"I KNOW!"

Thing is, you never know WHY Farmer H is showing me something like this.

"Well...I don't know. Do we need another dog? We've always had three. It wouldn't be that much different than having two."

"Yeah. It wouldn't be any different at all."

"Should we call about her?"

"She's NOT coming in the house!"

"I know that. The weather's warm. She'd have to learn that she lives here. Do you have somewhere to put her up for a week or so?"

"I could put her in the chicken pen."

"She'd dig her way under the fence."

"Yeah. Jack already has a hole where he goes under, to get in the goat pen. I'd have to fill that in."

"She'd probably stay. With the other dogs. And getting fed here. Juno will hate her! For a while. Then maybe they'll be buddies, like Juno and Ann were."

"Yeah."

"Do we want to get her? While we don't have any chickens left for her to kill? She'd have to have her operation! Is five months old enough?"

"I don't know. It would be close. We don't want any pups!"

"Yeah. We need a pet carrier that she'll fit in. Since you can't find the big one."

"She'd fit in that other one right now. She probably won't get any bigger than Jack."

"Yeah. They may not let us have her, if they know she'll be outside. I wonder what's wrong with her? Why they don't want her?"

"I don't know."

We went to the movie. Didn't speak of that little dog again. Until we were coming down the driveway, opening up the garage door.

"What do you think about that dog?"

"I don't care. Here. I'll send that lady a message."

This was around 1:30. We didn't hear anything until 7:00. The lady is trying to decide who to give that little dog to. I have a feeling we won't get her. But if that's because she's going to somebody who'll keep her in the house, then good for Pepper.

My heart feels like it's a size too small right now.