Just A Stranger Passing Through The Night

I was lounging around Casa de Acorn last night, cowering in fear of the Hell Hound enjoying a nice evening with my canine housemate, when she ran to the window, and then to the door, barking all the while, clearly indicating that there was someone outside.  “Indy,” I said.  “It’s 10:00 pm.  It's highly unlikely that we have a visitor at this late hour.  Besides (I stifled a sniffle at this point), no one ever visits me anyway.”  (It may have been more along the lines of screaming “SHUT UP!  SHUT THE FUCK UP!  THERE’S NO ONE THERE!  YOU’RE AN IDIOT!” but that’s neither here nor there.)

Imagine my surprise, then, when I heard a knock on the screen door!  “Why, that’s odd!” I said to her.  “You were correct!  I certainly hope it’s a cherished friend stopping by for a lager and some nice conversation, and not a Federal Agent investigating international Beanie-Baby-smuggling activities!”  I walked over and opened the door, all a-twitter with anticipation, and greeted …

A dog.  A goofy-looking block-headed pit bull/Labrador mix, I would guess.  I wasn’t quite sure what to do, as he appeared to be alone, so I let him in.  He and Indy introduced themselves (I don’t believe they’d met before, and I hadn’t seen him around the ’03), and she showed him around the house while I stepped outside to see if anyone was around looking for him.

Nothing.

They played for a bit, and after about 20 minutes, I let him back outside, assuming he knew where to go.  (He did have license tags, but nothing with a name or phone number.  Maybe he’s got those memorized and doesn’t see the need to have them written down.)  Fifteen minutes later, however, he knocked once more, and there I was again, sitting befuddled, not only at why there was a goofy-ass strange dog in my house, but also at the fact that Indy has more friends that come to visit than I do.  (Actually, that doesn’t really surprise me at all.)

It was, I decided, time to repair to the bedroom for the evening, and I asked them to turn off the TV when they were done and to try not to be too loud (it was extremely cold last night; fit for neither man nor beast, so I certainly couldn’t send him on his way at that point).  Doofus (his new Casa de Acorn name) apparently lives with very lenient people, as he felt quite comfortable hopping up on the bed and commandeering approximately 75% of it.  He’s a bit of a restless sleeper, as well, and not at all careful about where he steps.

So that’s it.  Our odd little evening.  I let Doofus out when I left for work this morning, and he meandered off after realizing he wasn’t getting to go for a car ride.  I saw nothing on the community lost & found listings, so maybe he’s already found his way home.  But Doofus, if you happen to stumble across this humble blog, please know that you’re welcome any time.

And yeah, humans, too (but a little heads-up call or text in advance is always appreciated ... you know, just to have time to clear the ole browser history and whatnot).