Didn’t I mention just the other day on this very website that I’d rather deal with the thunder and lightning during the waking hours so that it wouldn’t cause me to involuntarily fly out of bed in the middle of a perfectly good dream involving a world free of roving mariachis and beans?

I’m pretty sure I did.  It’s not like I would make that stuff up.

Today I got my wish when the thunder, lightning, and rain arrived mid-morning and carried on for an hour or two at least.  Strangely enough, I was awake.

“Would you consider going home for lunch to check up on Faith?”  Wifey asked me that this morning.

Translation:  “Regardless of what we do, Faith is going to go ape shit when the thunder comes.  I need you to go home during lunch, straighten up whatever furniture she’s been bouncing off for the last few hours, and pick up the expelled contents of her colon off of what I’m guessing will be the kitchen floor.  But before you do so, it wouldn’t hurt to take a picture of the destruction and text it to me.  Who knows?  It may make good blog material.”

Shows how much she knows.  The expelled contents of Faith’s colon were in the foyer, not the kitchen.

Beyond that, I followed the implied instructions, and almost in the correct order.  The picture came after I picked up a potato masher and the can it gets stored in.

But wait.  There’s more.

One of the admirable things about the people who run Cubeville is their charitable spirit.  Every year, the company picks a specific local charity to support for the year.  Over that time, various events are held both at work and off site to raise cash and awareness for the charity.  This year, the charity we selected was the San Antonio Humane Society.

Background has been set.  Stay with me here.

Upon returning to work from a disappointing lunch time visit to my beloved dogs, an email lay there in the ole inbox.  It said:

We want your adoption success story!

 Did you adopt your best friend from the San Antonio Humane Society?

We want to know about your experience, and your furry friend!

Ladies and gentlemen, have I ever told you about the origin of the species as it applies to Faith?  I know I’ve told you how we came about our pit bull Hope, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t told you where we got Faith.

During the Christmas of 2006, we wandered into the San Antonio Humane Society one night and fell in love with an 8 week old black lab mix named Buddy.  We had gotten there too late that night to adopt him, so the kids and I went back the next morning to bring the little guy home.

Unfortunately, someone else had fallen in love with Buddy the night before and arrived at the same time that next morning to adopt him.  Had I not been polite and held the door for them upon arriving at the Human Society, we would have gotten Buddy.

We didn’t get Buddy.  Even worse, I apparently didn’t learn my lesson.  I still hold doors for people.

As we wandered around, we happened across a couple of Buddy’s littermates in one kennel.  They had been named Blossom and Buttercup.

We took Blossom.

She was renamed later that day and the rest is history and a series of blogs.

At this point, I’m pondering what kind of “success story” to write about that psychotic head case of a little dog of mine that hasn’t been said before.

Perhaps I don’t have to write anything.  After all, a picture’s worth a 1000 words; especially a picture of a psychotic head case of a little dog posing in her lavender scented Thundershirt near the crime scene where she perpetuated kitchen utensil homicide coupled with assault and battery on an oven just a few short hours before.

Deep down, I know that if this dog ever had access to a basement, she would have a basket with lotion in it for the captives in the makeshift well.

All things being equal, I think I’ll take the pit bull burping in my face.