I’ve seen some weird sh*t!!!
OK, I can’t stand it anymore, I have to tell somebody about this!
Something strange in the weather. In the last few days, I’ve been lounging on the backyard patio under the shade, enjoying consistently sunny and clear blue skies, soft breezes, low humidity, low 80’s – what I would consider absolutely stunning weather. This was prefaced by a week-long heat wave unceremoniously ended by a brief but severe windstorm that blew through and disappeared so quickly, it was almost like nothing happened. Since then, it’s been consistently perfect weather for several days in a row, and I found it a bit disconcerting to have that perfect consistency interrupted unexpectedly by really strange happenings – not once, not twice, but three times. Guess it’s true weird stuff happens in threes.
First was the visit from my sister. I’ve lived about 10 miles away from my sisters for about eight years now. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been to their house. The few times either of them has called, saying they want to come over, they usually cancel before showing up, so the number of times either of them has come to my house, I can count on both hands without needing to remove my shoes and count on toes too. (LOL!) Color me surprised when my sister actually did show up this time – and with an unexpected “guest.”
“And your little dog, too!” This “guest” was a three-legged Pomeranian dog (missing his right front leg, poor boy). But he got around fairly well and didn’t look like he missed any meals. He was friendly, well groomed (“teddy” shave), but wasn’t wearing a collar. My sister found him along a well-populated suburban road and felt compelled to pick him up to keep him from getting hurt.
My sister is known for rescuing stray or lost animals – once at a rest stop, no less. At one time my sisters had 10 cats in the house! Now they are down to five cats, one parrot, and one dog. (It was two dogs, until my late mother’s elderly Maltese recently passed. They plan to place his ashes with my mother’s. Their animal menagerie is a whole other story I will save for another time!)
“Teddy,” as my sister had taken to calling him, made it over to my cat’s dinner tray on the floor and helped himself to wet cat food and water. I suggested my sister take him to a vet to scan for a locator chip, and if none, go to the neighborhood where she found him and start knocking on doors. Hubby rode with her to help. Meanwhile I went to the local Facebook lost pets group and posted about the dog.
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Side note – I discovered the FB group a couple years ago when my (late) mother’s (late) dog got out of the yard on a very windy day and went missing. No collar, of course. My sister and mom had given up on finding him after driving around the neighborhood looking for him. I got busy making posters and leaving messages at the animal control place, plus looking up online where to post to find lost animals – including Craigslist. By 10:30 that night he was back home safe and sound, thanks to some super nice people that picked him up from the busy road he’d wandered onto. They’d taken him home, cleaned him up, and fed him, then posted on the FB group. Somebody else saw both my post and theirs and got me in contact with them. For once, social media was used for good! Networking is awesome and so important, so keep that in mind, especially if you care about and want to help lost or abandoned animals.
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I didn’t get any hits on the FB post for “Teddy.” The dog had no chip, and no one in the target neighborhood recognized him – no surprise. The neighborhood was less than two years old, with all new houses and new residents, so it was possible there wasn’t much of a community atmosphere there, and considering this dog’s handicap, it was doubtful he was taken out and walked. So my sister took him back home with her. About 8:30 that evening I got a call from a Washington state number. Now, I get spam calls all the time, sometimes 10 or 15 a day, from every state in the union, as well as hundreds of local numbers – way too many to block and useless to do so because they’re all spoof numbers randomly generated by computer dialers, so it’s rare to get a repeat call from the same number. Blocking is a waste of time and eats up phone memory. Anyway, my husband answered and – lo and behold – it was somebody who’d seen the Facebook post and lived next door to the people who owned the dog and were looking for him. (How they got my number, I have no idea.) So, the dog was happily reunited with his owners. Oh, and it turns out his name is “Charlie”!
Geological Oddities. OK, this next event is out there. If you’ve ever seen the movie “Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou” (hilarious by the way) and remember the scene with the railroad handcar, you will know what I’m talking about. The “boys” – in chains and on the run – hitch a ride with a blind guy pushing a railroad handcar, and he proceeds to predicts they will have a long and arduous adventure, where they will see strange things, one of which is, “…you shall see a cow on the roof of a cotton house…” This next event is kinda like that!
(Here is where I’ll mention that weird windstorm again…) Hubby was mowing the yard (Friday) when the huge windstorm – complete with scary lightning – blew up and propelled big branches and debris all around. He stopped mowing, just short of finishing the back corners of the backyard. Within 15 minutes, the storm cleared off, and the sky returned to its previous calm and sunny status, like nothing happened. Next morning (Saturday), Hubby was outside in the backyard and saw two black steers eating the sweetcorn in his garden, so he shooed them away, then came in and told me about it. I suggested he call the sheriff’s department and report them running loose – for obvious safety and liability reasons. Later a deputy came to our door to follow up, but by then the cows had moved on.
Around noontime, Hubby suggested we pot those plant cuttings languishing in our sun room. We dragged all the potting stuff out to the patio and set things up, when a couple came down the driveway into the backyard and asked about the cows they said had got out after Friday’s windstorm blew a branch that crashed the fence. (Amazing how I finally tied in that seemingly irrelevant mention of the windstorm earlier!) Turns out they were from Venezuela and had bought the small acreage place at the opposite end of our neighborhood road where the previous owners had kept horses. (We used to walk down to see the horses and take apples with us. One roan filly suddenly became my best friend and rubbed her head against mine. So sweet and surprising. Anyway…) The guy said they were planning to get married soon, but the lady said there wasn’t going to be a wedding if they didn’t find those cows. Apparently one of the steers was key to the menu planning. (!!! Anyway…) Hubby took off in his truck to help look for the cows. I proceeded to pot all the plants myself and finished up right when Hubby returned a few hours later – no bueno finding the steers.
Moving on… Next day, (Sunday, Father’s Day, Juneteenth, and our Anniversary – WOW), we went out to eat. Later Hubby decides to call an old friend he hadn’t talked to in a while, who had moved out of state. He thought the friend would be at his retired farmer father-in-law’s house up the road from our house, celebrating Father’s Day, and wanted him to ask if his father-in-law had heard anything about the renegade steers. That phone conversation turned out to be the third “event.”
After two kids and several decades of marriage, the friend’s wife had gone off the rails and divorced him. They’d ended up auctioning off most of the farm and rental property they’d accumulated, and he was now pretty much broke and living off one rental property he’d managed to keep. Apparently his ex-wife’s mother had the same type of mental breakdown and chronic health problem that eventually led to her death. The ex-wife’s sister a couple years before had developed the same thing, divorcing her husband and completely blowing up their life. So … not a happy Father’s Day for this dude.
Hubby was totally blown away by this news, and later that afternoon we went out for ice cream then took a ride through the country near our house, scouting for the renegade steers. I told Hubby that 1) they would be looking for a water source; 2) they’d probably seek out the company of other cows because they’re herd animals; and 3) it was possible someone had apprehended them and was keeping them locked up somewhere. We drove by a couple cattle pastures, and in one pasture I spotted two black steers among the other (different colored) steers and jokingly said, “Hey, that could be them!”
The next afternoon (Monday) we’d just returned from town and someone came knocking insistently on our front door. I thought it was a salesman, but he was persistent, so I answered the door, and it was the Venezuelan guy still looking for his renegade steers. I repeated to him my suspicions about the steers looking for water and other cows, and the possibility a farmer had apprehended them and secured them. I said I’d go post on the Facebook lost pets group – even though these weren’t technically pets – in hope that someone who knew something about the cows might by chance see the post. Meanwhile, Hubby decided to take the guy and his kid and drive them to the farm where we’d seen the black cows in the pasture the day before. And … sure enough, those were the cows! I don’t think “amazing” is quite strong enough to describe the coincidence of that situation.
Wedding crashers. In a weird twist of peculiar coincidences and connections, the farmer who nabbed the renegade steers said they’d crashed an outdoor wedding ceremony on the property, so he put them in the pasture with his cows to keep them safe. (Unfortunately he hadn’t reported that to the authorities. Guess they were too busy with the wedding and all.) It’s funny how the steers almost escaped being in one wedding, only to appear in another. LOL! Oh, and the Venezuelan guy said we’re invited to his wedding! But wait, there’s more! The farmer who caught the cows knew my Hubby’s friend and had heard all about his marital troubles. And considering the farmer’s last name and age, it’s entirely possible he’s related to the guy who built our subdivision, who lived next door to his farm until he was shot and killed over a decade ago in a mysterious case that is yet to be solved. (Whoever said truth is stranger than fiction hit that nail on the head!)
And that brings us to the end of this weird series of events, somehow all spookily related and interwoven. I don’t think I could ever make up sh*t this bizarre. Oh, wait … there is that dream about the cat wearing a stocking cap, riding in a duffel bag. And wouldn’t you know, even that’s not too crazy to be reality. I just saw a Facebook add for a cat carrier/walker that looks like a shopping bag with a hole in the bottom at each corner so the cat can stick his legs through and walk along with the person “holding the bag.” And when he gets too tired, the person walking him can lift the bag and carry the cat. Later, I assume the person will have to “let the cat out of the bag.” (OK, OK, I’ll stop now!) One thing I do know … I need to stay the hell off Facebook. They’re stealing ideas straight from my dreams! Or maybe it’s just that crazy cat people all kinda think alike…
