April 08, 2012
Filed Under (Good Times) by svana

Good Friday started with a dream…

In my dream, I was waking up from a nap. I looked at the clock on the DVD player, and it said 3:43pm. I yelled at my poor spouse (sorry spouse) for letting me sleep through my coffee date scheduled at 1:00pm.

Then I woke up.

Feeling fuzzy eyed, I stumbled into our home office and related my dream to my spouse, and apologised  for yelling at him in my dream. I looked at him and said, “3:43 is going to be an important time today…I don’t know why, but it is”.  As ever, my very tolerant spouse smiled and nodded as if to say, “Sure, sure…go wake up sweetie”, then he went into the kitchen to pull some lunch together for me.

What followed was this….

Spouse: What the fuck?!?

Spouse double-times it out of the house .

Me: WTH?!?

Spouse: trucking up the neighbours driveway, and pauses to rap on the window…and flags me to come outside.

I wander out to the front porch, and peer up the drive…and see the biggest damn white dog I have ever seen.

Spouse: He looks friendly enough, but I think he’s thirsty.

I head back into the house & scare up a bowl big enough for the creature and head back outside. Only to be met with the fact that the dog has wandered off across the street, and my spouse is trying to chase him down in socked feet.

Me: Honey, go put shoes on, I’ll keep an eye on it!

Spouse heads off to get shoes, and I begin to follow said creature through our neighbors back yards across the street. Very soon after the dog finds himself street-side again, my spouse is waiting for us on the sidewalk. We took point positions on either side of the dog ‘s shoulders and navigated it back across the street with our thighs. [Note to self: big dogs only go where they want to go.] Thankfully, the dog was fairly co-operative and allowed us to get him back to our porch and the water.

As luck would have it, my spouse was on the ball and got a good picture of the dog…because the dog had no collar or tags <sigh>, and posted “Found” notices on Google+ and Twitter. I looked at my spouse and said, “I think I need to cancel my date”. This little statement began a 3+ hour journey to find out who would be looking for this pony sized dog.

I called my coffee date and related what had just happened…dream and all, and she was so gracious (Thank you, P!), and I told her I would likely be free by 4:00pm. P asked how I could possibly know that. My answer was so straight forward, it was like I was a voiced puppet, “because my dream highlighted 3:43, so we’ll have found its owner by then”. Of course, any rational person would laugh this off, yet I knew this to be a fact.

After fashioning one of my daughter’s skipping ropes into a makeshift leash, pooch and I were off for a wee walk.  Before anyone gets their knickers in a bunch, we are a cat household and despite the fact we keep dog treats, we do not have a spare leash or collar, the dog was not harmed. As luck would have it, one of the folks that lives a backyard away lent me a spare leash and collar, so pooch and I were much more comfortable, even if he was taking me for a walk every so often.

[Note to self: Even with a leash and collar, big dogs only go where they want to go.]

Pooch and I walked back to our house, and we began our journey through the neighborhood and into Wortley Village proper to see if we could locate the person who must be missing their pet. I quite certain the concept of walking around with no real idea as to where pooch came from seems a bit more than daft, but it was the only plan of action we had.

Wortley Village is a very big “DOG” area… Everyone seems to have a dog, therefore, someone must know this dog. As we wandered and asked every person we saw, “Do you know this dog? He has no collar or tags”… We were met with the rather annoying response of, “What do his tags say?” <sigh>

[Note to self: Holiday Fridays create a disconnect between brain and ears.]

We knocked on doors, we spoke to people on the street, we followed every lead that eventually turned our feet in the right direction. We found a part of the neighborhood that seemed to know this dog…and they said his name was Bentley.

[Note to self: No one is home on Good Friday]

Admittedly, I am not a dog person. I am a person who has spent her entire life observing responses…and this dog did not respond to the name Bentley. No ear perks, no head turn…nada, nothing, zip and zilch. I looked at my spouse and voiced my concern.  I had no problem working to get this dog back to his owner, provided of course, we were on the right track.  Could it be that this dog just didn’t like his name? A very helpful gal walked us to a house where the would-be Bentley could be identified.

Providence! Yes! We were so awesome!

Why didn’t it feel right? Not just to me, but to my spouse too.

Seemingly, this was the place for “Bentley” to be delivered. The homeowner was certain it was him, their dog knew his friend…all’s well that end’s well, right?


We were no more than 5 minutes from dropping “Bentley”, and my spouse received a call on his cell… Nope, not “Bentley”, but they were willing to hold on to the dog for at least 24 hours to allow more time for the owner to be located. <Huge SIGH of relief> Our home is simply not equipped to accommodate a large dog…to say nothing of what the cats would do to him.

[Note to self: Do we need to build a dog run in the backyard?]

We walked home, feeling rather dejected. I looked at my daughter and asked what time it was…2:47pm… well, lets see what will happen in the next 57 minutes. I walked the leash and collar back to my neighbors, and my spouse posted a “Found Dog” notice with picture on Kijiji.

Wouldn’t you know it… the first response as to who the dog belonged to was time stamped…. 3:43pm.  The second response was from the actual owner.

Walter (not Bentley) was happily reunited with his humans by about 4:10pm.

What an excellent adventure for Good Friday, and it was good indeed.

[Final note to self: Pay attention to your dreams. You never know when they might point you in the right direction.]







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