Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Signs of my brain's own private apocalypse.

  • Today on the way to school, I saw a little wiener dog limping on the side of the freeway. So I did what any rational person would do. I impetuously pulled over, turned on my hazards and jumped out of my car. On the driver's side, of course. Because, naturally, that's where the Mack trucks speed by at 65 mph. Then I chased the little bugger. He was hopping on three legs and he had porcupine quills all up in his business, which only made me more determined to save him. What I was going to do when I caught him is entirely beside the point. Let's not forget where I was demonstrating all of this heroism: on the freeway. In Los Angeles. On the interchange between the 5 to the 10. In my infinite wisdom, I chased him up the 5, across a median and across another on-ramp before it occurred to me that I was being a damned retard. So I ran back to my car, tried to look up animal control, could only find Pet Finder, gave up, and finally called Rob and made him take care of it. Which he did because he's so awesome.
  • On Saturday, I saw a dead baby bird on the side of the house and, like I assume all mentally stable people do, started weeping. I made Rob promise that he would bury it while I was at work. Then on the way home, there was another baby bird in the same spot. I was about to get all up in Rob's face for neglecting to give the baby bird the front yard (more like a front dirt-patch) burial it deserved, but I noticed this one was breathing. Being a 26-year-old grown woman, I immediately started hyperventilating and began to panic. (What can I say? I'm a natural.) Rob got to work saving the little fella while I crouched down and, somehow, between hysterical sobs, assured the little bird that it shouldn't worry and it was going to be OK. However, I can see how having a giant lady hovering over you and blubbering would not be super comforting for a tiny woodland creature who's just trying to make it in this city like everyone else. Rob saved the little guy, restoring him to the nest we found on the side of the house and I held the ladder while intermittently gasping for breath and wiping my eyes. Everything's back to normal now, except that I obsessively check the spot where I found the birds, just to make sure no more have fallen out of the nest. So far, so good.

5 comments:

Jason Graham said...

I'm glad no one had a video camera on you while chasing a quill-filled, limping wiener dog on the freeway and posted it on failblog. Lets just say I loved reading this, because I did. Twice.

Carrie said...

Oh Gretta! That totally made my day! I wish I could have been there for all that, I'm pretty sure I would have peed my pants from laughing so hard!

Rob, you're way too nice.

Love you both!

Hilary said...

A tear. Hilarious. But also kind of sad, for the poor wiener dog. (When trying to write dog--I wrote dong twice bah ha--stupid penis jokes). Anyway--you are a good person. I would have felt bad and then just driven by all cold-hearted and stuff. I think its from living in the mountains and being told to "just hit the animal" instead of swerving. The "don't kill yourself when trying not to kill an animal" line of reasoning. Anyway, this is funny and you are nice.

amelia said...

You little humanitarian, you. You would not last at our house - in the spring, we constantly find bird fetuses all over our front porch (they nest in our rafters).

Cliff said...

girl you crazy.

love you