BO and I bought a motorcycle today. On the drive home I became his handler, following behind so no one would cut him off. I also fended off the ladies with a stick out my window.People (usually women) keep asking me if I'm nervous for him to be riding a motorcycle. Obviously they haven't spent much time with my methodical, meticulous, intelligent husband. But I understand he can't control how other drivers behave, and perhaps this give me a little apprehension.
Earlier this morning, Bryan and I were in his car and spotted a dog loose in the neighborhood. Bryan asked me to get out and approach the salt-and-pepper poodle. After he led me around the complex a few minutes, he must've decided I was innocent enough and let me pet him. He didn't have a collar, and when I told Bryan this, he said, "We gotta take him home and make up fliers."
But the dog then led me back to a house. After I rang the bell, a man answered, look at me and then at the salt-and-pepper poodle, and said, "Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh."
Dumbly, I asked, "Is he yours?"
He nodded. "Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh."
By this time the dog had sauntered through the door and out of sight. The man thanked me profusely, and I just nodded, said, "Sure," and walked away.
It was Bryan who'd insisted we stop and try to get this dog home safely. I hope other people on the roads will look after my husband, too.
