When the Man and I were at camp this weekend, his mother and I were at the side door at about 10:15pm and she said
"It looks like there's an animal on the porch. Oh!"
At which time I flung open the door and said (a little too excitedly) "IT'S A PUG!!"
It was Harry the Pug, as a matter of fact.
I kept waking up from dreams featuring talking pugs to look out the screen door and see if he was there. Occasionally I got up to give him some water or scratch his wonderful suede dog ears. We bonded. At 4:30am I woke up and Harry was gone. I came back to bed and
The Man: Is he gone?
Leslie: Yes! sob!
M: Where do you think he went?
L: I think he was stolen and sold into pug-slavery and now he'll be forced to work the pug mines! double-sob!
M: Oh, baby, I don't think those mines are very productive.
L: I would have loved him forever!
M: What would you have called him?
L: Well his name is Harry, it says so on his col...
M: Would you have called him Bubba?
L: YES!! DARTH BUBBA!
M: Uh huh.
Sunday morning I scanned to grounds several times but couldn't find Harry. I came to find out that one of the neighbors had seen him and immediately called the number on his collar because OF COURSE he was lost and the owners very happily came to get him. Harry. Good, good boy.
*Everyone else wanted to keep him outside the camp. I wanted to stick him in my purse and take him home... Would he not be the cutest unicorn at Halloween if I strapped a horn to his head? OH HARRY I LOVE YOU!!!
**At no point was I convinced that it would be a bother to inform a per owner of the whereabouts of their pets. I will rely on my own instincts from now on.