Last night, La, Aunt M and I took sweet little Bro to the dog beach. To give him away. He's never been to the dog beach, and he absolutely LOVED IT. You can sort of see him being attacked by a pit-bull in the above video. It's not the best footage of the dog beach, but it's all I got. For some reason during the filming, I stopped focusing the camera on Bro and instead started batting at the pit-bull with my open palm until his owner came to grab and reprimand his satan-dog.
Anyway, I found some Craig's-listers that seemed like the perfect match, so we decided to meet there at the beach. The couple was just married at the beginning of the month, and have a little weenie dog named Moses (too cute). The wife is currently in Seminary to become a minister, and the husband helps run a homeless shelter. (Too bad they don't have rewarding careers or anything. I mean come on!). Both were outgoing and very nice, and they LOVED Bro, which was a definite plus.
So, we hung out with them for about an hour, and I was like, "Well, you can just take him tonight if you want." And they were all about it. The wife kept saying how much she loved Brody, and how perfect this was going to be. And she was saying all sorts of sweet nothings to him like, "Brody, oh Brody, YOU ARE SO CUTE!!! Where have you been all my life little sugar pea? Moses is just going to LOVE YOU. Yes he is! Yes he is! Love you to pieces!!!"
We left the dog beach Brody-free. It was a little sad, I have to admit, but the song running through my head – Freedom by George Michael in case you're wondering – sure helped lift my spirits. La, however, cried the whole way home and then cried during her entire bath, and then cried herself to sleep. It was very upsetting, but I consoled her by telling her that Bro would be MUCH happier in a home with another dog.
Then, at 7:00 this morning, the made-in-heaven, PERFECT MATCH, new parents of Bro stopped over to return the weenie.
Yes, you heard me right.
They gave him right back to me precisely 10 hours after deciding to take him. Apparently, he was humping their dog all night long and WOULD NOT STOP until they shut him into a separate room. No one in their household got an ounce of sleep last night because Bro was scratching and wining incessantly from behind closed doors about how BADLY he wanted to hump poor Moses. (Such sacrilege! Humping a dog named Moses. Goodness!)
I called my BFF Kristin in San Francisco, and she said it reminded her of that song that goes something like, "The cat came back the very next day, the cat came back, we thought he was a goner, but the cat came back, he just wouldn't stay awaaaay."
How miserable. I'm thinking to myself, okay, this woman is in Seminary, dealing with deep spiritual issues all day long, and this dude deals with the homeless, which I'm sure can be trying at times, and they can't even handle MY DOG.
I hope some lovely family will take him soon ... oh, right, AND KEEP HIM.
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