Gotcha Day

BEST.DAY.EVER.

After a leisurely Thanksgiving dinner of meat and potato pie and lashings of gravy, we were full up to the brim. Black Friday just passed us by. Can't buy anything. Nowhere to put it! Silver linings and all.

By Saturday morning, we were all ready for some fresh air. Sisters had a Thanksgiving Parade and Christmas Tree Lighting planned so I rallied the troops and we set off into town. We parked in front of the Sisters Saloon, home of the now famous Marionberry crumble, adjacent to the Sinclair Gas Station with the green dinosaur at the entrance wearing a Santa hat. The streets were crowded with people wrapped up in their winter woollies; thick coats, hats, colorful scarves and mittens, exhaling misty breath into the air. The temps had plummeted, it was icy on the roads, but it was a clear day with brilliant blue skies.

We got out of the truck, crossed the road, and on the corner of S Fir Street and E Cascade Avenue, an elderly gentlemen with a thick, grey beard and crinkly eyes had a red tagalong bike trailer full of his belongings and a litter of mewling puppies. Henry and I were eager to see them and have a cuddle. Well, as soon as the man unzipped the canvas, Henry popped his head in to take a look, and immediately locked eyes with a brown eyed puppy right at the back who seemed to be the calmest of the litter of five. I can tell you, it was love at first sight for both of them.

We were told the puppies were 10 weeks old and that they were labradoodles. Clearly the man was struggling and the puppies were a burden. They looked very underweight and more than a little unkempt. The man explained their Mom had given birth to them, unplanned, and he was looking to offload them at the parade. As soon as he saw the love in Henry's eyes, he decided a sale was in order.

We walked away. 

Kim and I explained how a labradoodle would grow too big for the trailer, would limit our travels and just wasn't in the family plan. Henry reminded me what we had talked about after our beloved Snowy passed away a couple of years back. If there was a stray puppy or a puppy needing a home, we would adopt them. We literally talked about finding a puppy on the side of the road that might just need a forever home. It's like Henry manifested the entire situation.

We hummed and hawed.

We watched the Thanksgiving Parade.

All that time Henry was begging us to reconsider. He knows his own mind. By the end of the parade we caved and returned to the corner where the grizzly man had been. He wasn't there. We then said to Henry, if you can find him, we will talk to him. Henry dashed off in search of the man and his pupper. He had been gone for ages and finally came back close to tears. I said we should have one last look and have a long walk up and down the crowded streets. Maybe it was meant to be this way.

About half way up the street, I spotted the man ambling down the street pulling his tagalong with his belongings and the puppies. Henry got very emotional. He picked up his brown eyed puppy. I saw love in Henry's eyes. So did the man. Suffice to say, money changed hands, and both parties got an unexpected Christmas gift.

This was our Gotcha Day. The day we got our darling, beloved, beautiful, bouncy, clever labradoodle. It was the day we got our Ollie.

​Best. Day. Ever.