Driving along the Capital Beltway (perhaps I should say, Captial Parking Lot
) tonight, I noticed flames spewing from underneath a Jeep Wagoneer. I saw the vehicle pull over and--without thinking-- I steered to the side of the rode in front of the Jeep, stopped, grabbed my flashlight, and walked to the flaming vehicle. I was somewhat surprised when I noticed the driver continued sitting in the car, oblivious to the fire just below him. As I approached the car, the driver stepped out to greet me. Not knowing what to do, I simply said Sir, your car is on fire.
Not registering with the driver, I repeated, Sir, your car is on FIRE.
The driver quickly put the flames out with a rolled up flannel jacket and a bottle of Gatorade. After several unsuccessful attempts to restart his car, he collected his things and asked for a ride home. Again, without much serious thought, I agreed. After dropping him off, I continued home. When I told my parents about the evening's events, my step-mother said I would have killed you if you had died doing something like that.
Indeed.
Our new house came furnished with an in-ground pool. The first one in after a long day's work isn't the aching humans. No, it's the insubordinate Chocolate Lab (AKA Mandy). I've learned two things from Mandy: 1) the real way to make puppy-dog eyes, and 2) how to doggy paddle.
Shortly before I left home last week to return to school, my beloved cat, Mia, passed away. She went quickly and unexpectedly. Behind our pool, our property includes several hundred feet of woods. Mia found her final resting place amongst the trees, out in the wild where she belongs.
I never realized you could love a pet so deeply until her death. She was a wonderful cat and I had looked forward to including her in my search for a place of my own. In any case, she's better off were she is now.
