My weekend went to the dogs...literally

I previously posted about the possibility of aquiring one Mr. Rowdy Banjo.  I thought it was something for me to ponder, and I did for a couple of weeks and had almost decided that 2 dogs was too much responsibility.  Then, Mrs. Ruby (Rowdy's owner) became more ill and asked what my decision was.  You see, while I was contemplating whether to let Rowdy live in my home, I didn't realize how sick Mrs. Ruby was and that me having Rowdy was pretty much one of her dying wishes.  Actually talking to her about this was a big 'ol wakeup call and I made plans to pick him up as soon as possible.

I got up early on Saturday morning to make the hour treck to his house.  I think Mathilda knew what was going on because for the first time ever she did this while I drank my coffee:

She can be a tad on the sensitive and dramatic side, that one.

On the other hand, Rowdy is not about the drama.  He's about living life, loving people, and having fun.  And snorting and snoring.  He was ready to ride.

However, he was not ready to walk at the river and made it perfectly clear that he is about laying on his stomach in the shade when the outdoors are involved.

When he's not riding or protesting the Alabama heat, he is very hard to get a picture of - because if you are close enough to take his picture then he believes you should be petting him.  I did manage to steal this one.

This is where the story takes a sad yet necessary turn.  On Saturday night, Mrs. Ruby called me 3 times to ask me to bring Rowdy home because she just couldn't stand it without him.  I understand that.  I feel a bit lost in my house if my baby girl isn't there and if I don't feel good then I need to know I have a furry friend close by.  So I promised to take him home the next day and sure enough did.

Last night, she called my mom and said I must not have liked Rowdy because I brought him back to her.  She didn't remember asking me to.  Neither did she remember most of the things she and I had talked about in the past few days or whether I had finished school yet.  She knew I wouldn't make the story up and it allowed my mom to start a serious conversation with her that led to a serious conversation with her family.

Although this is not how I intended to spend my weekend, it was a blessing.  It was much better for this doggie drama to happen than for her condition to be revealed in a much more unfortunate way that could have ended with her or someone else being lost or injured. 

Rowdy Banjo always has a place at my house and I trust he'll come to stay at just the right time.