Dad on Duty #62

What’s really amazing about these days is the sheer volume of stuff.  I’m gonna tell you quite a few stories today, and it represents just a sliver of what happened.  I wish I could do a more complete montage, but then every day would be a book, not a blog entry. 

Real, meaningful life is chaotic, and full.  And almost overwhelming. Maybe that’s why we love working here; it is a daily dose of a full life.

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This will be a two-part blog; today was that busy.

And I doubt any of us has the attention span to make it through all this material in one sitting. Yes, I’m talking about *you*, short-attention-span-theater-goer.

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Fairly early in the day, I’m sitting in the front office trying to catch up on WatchDog administrative stuff when I get called to go corral a dog that’s out running down the bus lane near the little kid playground.

When I get there, Carol has caught up to him and is coaxing him back toward the front. He’s a handsome, but very skinny, black lab.  What he really wants to do is go play with the kindergarteners in the playground.  He hugs the fence.  He’s gotten a few steps ahead of us.

The kids agree with his plan; a few of them pop out of the gate to greet him.

This is suddenly a sentinel event; kindergarteners out of the fence, headed toward a big dog.

Myself and the staff rush to close the gap and intercept them. As I approach the dog, quickly, I call out “hey buddy!”

He sits immediately and looks at me, awaiting my arrival.

Hmmm.  This ain’t a stray.

I herd him back into the front office and get him some water.  He hangs out in the office area for a while, greeting folks, including kids. He likes Mary’s office a lot; cool tile to lay on. Plus she pets him and talks to him.  He greets kids as they come in to see the nurse. The kids feel better right away.

One of our more challenging kids is up in the office, after having worn his teacher down. I recruit him to help with the dog. We find some rope and fashion a leash for him.

“Buddy” has a brand new collar (but no tags) and really clean teeth, but is a little rough looking and very malnourished.  Joycelyn starts feeding him muffins and donuts while we decide what to do.

We deduce that he had to be a recent adoptee or foster, and must have come from the neighborhood across the street.  We fashion a plan;  I will walk him around a bit in the neighborhood and see if we can figure out where he belongs.

So off we go, Buddy and I.

In the meantime, we post his pic on social media: “Is this your dog?”

As Buddy and I are walking through the neighborhood, several people pop out of their houses and ask “is this the dog I just saw on Facebook?”

Whoa.  That social media stuff works.

We happen to run into a McCoy mom (Vanessa) at the neighborhood park, playing with her two younger kids. Vanessa volunteers to keep Buddy in her back yard till we find his owner.  Buddy and I march the few blocks to her house, and I let him go in her yard. He seems quite happy, so I start heading back to the school.

About 300 feet from the school, I hear “tick, tick, tick” on the sidewalk behind me.

Here comes Buddy. Smiling.  “There you are!  Where are we going now?” he asks.

Crap.

I enter the office.  “Did you find his house?” the ladies ask. I don’t bother to answer, as Buddy rounds the desk to greet them, and asks for more doughnuts.

So much for Plan A.

I get on the phone to the shelter. The County shelter says he’s not theirs, but that the City will come out and scan him.  Ok, that’d be good.  Let’s do that.

Meanwhile, two of our high maintenance kids are in and out of the office with various drama.  More than once, I have Buddy in one hand and a kid in the other.

The Boss walks through.  “I can’t imagine what THIS job description is…” she comments, as I redirect the dog and a volatile kindergartener.  Me either.  I guess “Dad”.

Vanessa shows up at the school, two little kids in tow.  “Where’s the dog?”  I point to Mary’s office.  She again volunteers to take him home; this time she’ll be there to keep him in check. He easily loads up in the back of the SUV; he’s done that before.

A gal walks in wearing a uniform with a “health department” name badge. When I worked at the health department, Animal Control was part of us. I start describing the dog to her, in detail, and write down Vanessa’s address for her to go scan Buddy.  I blather at her about Buddy for two whole minutes.

“That’s a great story. Thanks for sharing” she says. “But I’m here to inspect your kitchen”.

Um.  Oops.  I’m thinking we’re not getting a friendly inspection now.

And….really?  Inspect our kitchen today?

The real animal control officer shows up. I read his name tag very carefully before I start talking this time.  He heads to Vanessa’s house to scan Buddy.  Sure enough, we were right; he had just been adopted by a local family and had escaped. The ACO took him back to his new home.

Phew.  One problem solved.  On to the next hundred.  The Boss is calling me; gotta go help in the cafeteria because the inspector is tying up staff DURING LUNCH.  Have you not seen elementary school lunch time?!?!

Well, it is a full life.  I’ll tell you about the rest of the day in Part II.