I don't mean to complain, but I decided to walk the dog to the post office in order to mail this most amazing postcard. It's been raining like mad all day, but my compadre had left me a big yellow raincoat in case I needed to step outside, and Koko, while highly resistant to the cross-over from dry to wet, is content once he's outside in the actual rain.
Off we went. I checked my cell phone as we stepped out the door, and it was 5:40 -- important information when you know the post office closes at 6:00. I thought the walk would be 15 to 25 minutes, depending on Koko's needs to sniff and squat; and I knew to allow a few minutes for me to wheedle someone into dropping the postcard into the mail slot, which is inside, where dogs aren't allowed, even good dogs like Koko.
We walked briskly, up around the back side of Joanne's Fabrics and out beside Broadway Shoes. I glanced at my cell phone: 5:56. Not likely we'd get to the post office in time.
And yet we persevered, tromping through puddles. When we arrived, the office was not yet closed.
I wrapped Koko's leash around a bench leg, threading it so he couldn't escape (not that he's an escaping kind of dog; he's more a walking-up-because-you-look-like-you-want-to-pat-me-on-the-head kind of dog), and I scuttled toward the door, reaching my hand into my right pocket and pulling out -- not a postcard -- my cell phone. So I reached my hand into my left pocket and pulled out -- not a postcard -- 7 sacks for collecting dog poop. I checked again. No. Nothing. Pockets totally empty of postcard.
What was to be done? I unleashed Koko, who wanted to walk toward the store where they sell ham sandwiches ('cause he's a DOG with a NOSE), and as we passed the post office front doors, I saw on a narrow ledge just outside a cell phone. Just a plain old cell phone sitting there like somebody had accidentally set it down and meant to pick it up and somehow didn't.
I thought it over, looked around, caught the eye of a woman on her way into the p.o., and asked if she'd inquire inside as to a lost cell phone. She said, "Should I just take it inside?" and I said, "Oh, that's even better an idea," so she did, and Koko and I walked past the ham sandwich store and then started for home.
Yes, it was still raining. But then my compadre phoned, and he offered to come pick us up, and we retraced our steps in the Jeep and never saw the postcard. It was dark by then, and did I mention it was raining?
We got back home and I looked everywhere and the postcard isn't here, either, so it's out somewhere in the rain, cold and alone.
My question is: was this whole experience simply karma allowing me to assist in getting a cell phone back to its proper owner?
If so, I'm okay with that. But I'm going back to look for that postcard again in the morning.
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