A Day in the Life of a Heroine!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

For those of you who know me on DoodleKisses, you know that when I tell a story it can be very long and I like to stick to the facts.  I do not like to embellish or exaggerate, and boy, do I have a story to tell.  I also don’t like braggarts or horny tooters, my new expression for people who toot their own horn.  Now, with all that said, after I tell you what happened, I would be shocked if someone did not want to put me on the 6:00 pm news. 

This morning, I had to go work out with my trainer, which is something I always hate to do.  I know training is good for you, but I have developed a system to avoid burpees. Please don’t judge me until you have been asked to do 100 burpees for time and your trainer did not like it when you said, “Are we talking days or weeks?”  I figured out a while ago that if I ask my trainer if we could play racquetball, he is always willing.  I don’t like to call him bad names, well, at least not when we are working out, but basically my trainer is a paid athletic gigolo.  He is a 27-year-old man who I pay to have court time with and it involves a red, sometimes purple ball.  I cannot beat him, but I do surprise him every now and then with a terrific play and I always make him high five me when I do.  This morning I actually jumped off the ground to make a play and announced I had no idea my vertical jump was 36 inches and he asked if I meant to say 3.6 inches. Later, I ran from the back of the court to the front and scored a point because I think the trainer thought there was no way I could get there. He was as surprised as I was and when I commented I ran like a gazelle on that play and the distance to that ball seemed like a mile, he said he thought it was 3 feet. He always underestimates my extreme competitive drive and tries to quell my trash talking with facts, but that kind of crap does not work on me.  I am not going to say I am losing any weight with my new training method and in fact, have no After shots, but I have a lot of fun saying, “let's take this Before shot over there by the Snack Bar."

 

I hate to tell you this, but that whole story had nothing to do with my dog rescue other than the fact that I was on the way to the gym when I saw a little Welsh Corgi walking down the middle of the street.  People drive way too fast on this road and I was afraid of getting rear ended if I stopped too fast, so I turned around in a driveway.  When I got back there, two guys in a truck had also stopped.  They tried to get him off the road, but he kept wandering back in it and they had gotten back in their car.  Well, we had stopped traffic by this point and I jumped out and said to the little dog, “did you wander away from the castle?” because I know the Queen of England has Corgis. 

He was an old dog and seemed a little out of it, so I guess he didn’t get my joke, but he did come up to me and let me pet him and I was able to get ahold of his collar so he didn’t wander back into the road.  By this time, a whole bunch of cars had stopped and about five cars back someone said it was their dog.  Apparently, the little guy had wandered quite a ways from home and the owner said he was getting very old and confused.  I was so happy that someone claimed this dog, because I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with him. The whole incident took 10 minutes max and wasn’t even long enough to make me late for training.  That was the only part that irritated me.

 

When I got home after the gym, Vern and Fudge greeted me with their usual excitement, and when I told them they were looking at a dog rescuer and I would like to rest on my laurels and skip their walk for the day, they let me know that a dog rescuer still needs to walk her own dogs.  So, off we went to the park, and as luck would have it, the slowest driver in PA was ahead of me all the way to the park.  I know I was just complaining about fast drivers, but I think if you look in the rearview mirror and see 12 cars lined up behind you with angry drivers, it means you should immediately pull over and check yourself into the nearest Slowpoke Retirement Home and hand over your car keys when you get there. Anyways, once at the park, I was walking along minding my own business when a huge bird flew out of a tree right above me.  All the wing flapping it did scared me half to death and for a minute there I thought I was in an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Oh, and don’t think I am going to try and identify the bird because I could have been walking with a world famous Ornithologist who looked up into the sky and said, “wow, that is a blue heron,” and Sheila would come out of the woodwork and say, “are you sure it wasn’t a Blue feathered Eagle?” And Lord knows I would never say the bird had a toad in his mouth, because Pat would be all over me like white on rice and say, “I bet it was a frog.” No, I learned my lesson, so all I will say is it was a big bird and all together I saw 5 different big birds fly out of their tree today when I approached.  You would think they would have more respect for a dog rescuer.

Hmmm.....I think I will scare the pants off this lady!

Finally, I tried to impress upon Vern and Fudge that their mother was now a hero, but that revelation did not seem to prevent Vern from trying to eat a Kleenex he saw on the road or some grass.  I kept yelling, “Karen says Kleenex and grass are NOT approved toppers and I am a dog hero,” but Vern wouldn’t listen. Fudge acted a little better, but she did get my hero mobile full of muddy dog prints. I am sure it was not the three games of racquetball that wore me out, but rather the skill it took to call one little dog out of the middle of a busy street, but I am exhausted.  Being a hero is hard work.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Leslie, I have not done a burpee since I started playing racquetball with my trainer. I outfoxed him, well, except for the part where I am losing no weight :) LOL You are right..that Corgi was probably too classy for this joint.

[Carol and Banjo]

A personal trainer???   Uh huh.......so, while poor John slogs off to work everyday, Laurie is cavorting with a "personal trainer"?   Okay.......       What happens at the gym, stays at the gym.   Wink, wink.   

You were so getting  this little guy to safety, you missed the photographer capturing the action!All kidding aside......I was so relieved when you got to the part about the dog's owner coming upon the scene.   How happy they must have been!    You really are a hero!

[Lori, Quincy & Frankie]

Is this a picture of the Corgi's owner?  JK.  She does have her own floatation devices in this pic.  I am thinking FL needs some water balloons attached to compete with this orange suit.  

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

OMD....Lori, Not you, too :) You know perfectly well Carol meant me. I have my own floatation devices, but sadly they are in a different spot. LOL

[Lori, Quincy & Frankie]

Then they match the pair I have! 

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

LOL

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

LOL....wow, that does look like me, but you know I prefer a bikini. I wish my trainer made going to the gym better, but sadly he does not :) I blame my parents for bad genes :)

[F, Calla & Luca]

You are succinct, and modest to a fault. You deserve all due adulation but we need to figure just how much that is. Are you sure they were birds and not bats or pterodactyls. I saw a pterodactyl from my porch once but that was immediately after cataract surgery and some would say it was a turkey, but what fun are they.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Thank you, F. I know you are being perfectly sincere :) LOL Ricki said they might have been monkeys, but maybe they were bigger, like the one you saw when you had surgery.

[F, Calla & Luca]

Those poor royal corgis. Imagine wearing those crowns all the time. Not easy. And to think some commoners call their dogs Princess.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

LOL...they must be better behaved than Fudge. She would shake those royal crowns right off.

[Pat and Traveler]

Laurie, you are a heroine!  The little dog's owner should be very grateful to you. 

Good for you, doing the workouts!  I like the way this blog wanders from that into the dog rescue...lol.  I love stories that do that--reminds me of E.B. White.  Glad the grumpy little dog is back with his person.  :)