How to save a life

Today we saved someone's life. Not kidding. Well, not literally, but kind of literally. My husband and I are in a co-ed fraternity known to many as "dog ownership." It's a very tightknit, respectful family, especially in Tulsa. We go to dog parks, dog-friendly places, and on dog walks and are always met with the caring, smiling faces of other responsible dog owners. 

Today our fraternity went into crisis mode.

Lady is a 2-year old Australian shephard with a sugar-sweet demeanor and flair for adventure. Maybe she wanted to build a snowman, maybe she wanted to catch snowflakes, but when we found her in today's BLIZZARD in the Reasor's parking lot she just looked frozen solid and scared to death. We weren't the only people who saw her. Another lady my age was heading Lady's direction at the same time. 

By the time we got to her, the other woman had already checked for tags. No name. No address. No phone number. I made the instantaneous decision, as many other people would, that we were adopting another dog. There was no way this sweet dog was going to become a pupcicle on my watch and I surely wasn't taking her to the pound. We looked at her tags again, however, and saw that under her Rabies tag, she did have a little yellow tag from a company called Home Again. There was a 1-888 number on the tag.

We called the number and were patched through to their dispatch. We learned Lady's name and breed and that she had been reported missing for about an hour. Dispatch located the owner's phone number and patched us through. We were greeted by the voice of a very emotional, and very relieved older lady. She told us she was on her way.

I love that you can tell so much about a person by meeting their dog. When Lady's owner arrived, there were tears streaking her face, her eyes were swollen and red, and Lady couldn't have wiggled that tail more if she wanted to. It was quite obvious to us that Lady was all this little old lady had, and that she was all Lady had as well. It was a heartfelt reunion that made us feel thankful to be part of such an amazing unspoken fraternity. We saved a dog from a blizzard today, but we also saved the owner as well. You could see it on her face, and you could see it on ours.

I love dogs.

We don't get bored... we get busy.

I stand corrected. Corrected at the lameness that I used to think of as Tulsa. I'm not going to lie. I wasn't thrilled about moving to Tulsa two months ago. I grew up two hours south of the city, but my only real memories of it were the blinding sunlight on the interstate, toll roads, and a vague recollection of the zoo and Tulsa University housing. For some reason, and I'm not sure why, I had tagged Tulsa as a pretty boring place. I was wrong. Here is a list of some of the completely un-lame things my husband and I have been up to since the move:

1.) Snuck into a Paint Horse show at the expo center, got to check out some spectacularly sparkly chaps, "ooo"ed and "awww"ed at the ponies, had allergy attacks, and both stepped in horse poop.

2.) Sought out Will Rogers State Park, drove an hour out of the way to find out it had been closed for 25 years, and then stumbled across Will Rogers' birth place and petting zoo. More poop.

3.) Found the one and only BBQ joint in Tulsa that serves sweet tea... and it is magnificent.

4.) Established our very first tradition as a married couple: Donuts from Merritt's Bakery every Saturday morning, without fail.

5.) Have regularly taken our dogs to TWO different dogs parks. Cold noses abound.

6.) Have had no less than 3 snowball fights.

7.) Ate the very best meal of my life at the Palace Cafe.

8.) Paid $5 to check out a rockin' antiques show, complete with awesome old beer signs.

9.) Lost $40 at an Indian Casino is two minutes flat.

10.) Found the Tulsa Trolley and Scooby, our permanent designated driver and trippy music extrodinaire.

11.) Stumbled across a kickball league AND a dodgeball league.

12.) Joined a "Young Professionals" group... since we are both "young" and "professional," technically.

13.) Soaped a fountain in the nicest shopping district in Tulsa.

14.) Had a beer at the oldest bar in Oklahoma.

15.) Went to the zoo, ate zoo food, heckled zoo animals, and got nasty "zoo" stares from concerned parents.

16.) Discovered the badassness that is QT Coffee.

COMING UP: The things we are soon planning to do...

- Go to a show at Cain's Ballroom

- Attend Saturday square dancing classes

- Learn pottery-making in the Brady District

- Check out one of the thousand art gallery parties downtown

- Go to the Tulsa State Fair

- Watch the Conference USA Tourney, at the actual Tourney

 

We must look like we have "it" together...

So I've noticed something. People really like my husband and I. I don't know why this is... but people will literally single us out in crowded places and be incredibly nice to us for no reason. Check this out. Last weekend at the grocery store while we were discussing the pros and cons of chicken or beef, a rather large man (who looked like he's eaten his fair share from the deli section) walked all the way around the counter, specifically out of his way, to ask my husband about a particularly humungous slab of cow. My husband, being the carnivore he is, delved right into the history of this slab of meat, how it's butchered, where it should be cooked, etc. The large man was delighted and practically skipped away with his frozen bulging package of meat (sounds appetizing, eh?).

About a week before that, we were in Panera Bread and a woman who I can only describe as enthusiastic about bagels gave me personal service I have never experienced in a chain bakery. She touched my hand, called me by my first name, offered me extra lemons, and yelled, nay, BELLOWED across the dining room to make sure my Asiago with sun-dried tomato cream cheese was up to par. It was bizarre. If she had been 20 years younger, I might have thought she had developed an instantaneous woman-crush on me.

These sort of things happen to us EVERY WEEK. Strangers, completely random people, ask us for our advice. I had a woman in a Wal-Mart pop out of the dressing room 3 weeks ago and demand my opinion on 4 pairs of neon-colored stockings. 

My husband and I have discussed the nature of this phenomina at length, and the only thing we can come up with is that we must appear to have our shit together in a major way. I mean, what kind of perfect stranger are you looking for when you ask for advice? Do we look particularly non-threatening? Can you look at me and tell I'm probably going to tell you the truth, but in the nicest way possible? Does my husband just look like the kind of guy who is going to be able to help you with whatever totally off-the-wall question you have? I don't know what "it" is. But "it" has us baffled.