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So remember when I told you I had a three-legged dog? His name was Chuck. He was more awesome than a trained monkey (well, probably. He never flung any poo at me that I recall.) He was certainly more awesome than the cat that barfs every time she eats too fast.

I'm lookin' at YOU Ms. Regurgitation.

Well, recently I came across Chuck’s old water dish. The one he had to have a special because of the missing front leg and all the times he would bend down to drink, lose his balance and go splashing into the water bowl.

While this didn’t phase him in the slightest, it would upset me to no end. It was heartbreaking to see him wobble over and fall. And, to be more honest with you, it was a major pain in the ass to clean water off the floor seven or eight times a day.

To solve this problem my step-father fashioned him up a standing water dish (Thanks Ed!) My mom painted it a lovely shade of green (Thanks Mom!)

As you may know, Chuck passed away. It’s been several years ago now but it still doesn’t get any easier to think about those last few months. I have tried to write up the story of Chuck, all the friends he made, all the people that helped ease his passing but I can’t seem to edit the damned thing. I get halfway through and I can’t read any more because my eyes start tearing up and my nose starts running.

After his death I gave away most of his stuff to a friend that had adopted a puppy. He was happy to have it, I was happy to give it. I gave him everything except the water dish. I don’t know why – I just couldn’t give it up.

Cut to this afternoon. I was dinking around in the shed and I spotted that water dish.

“Well now” says I. “That should be put to better use than just collecting dust, don’t you think?”

So I dragged it out and put it up for free on Craigslist. There are many things I could say about the “Free Stuff” section on Craigslist. Many of them you’ve probably heard me say before. I will sum it up to this:

Crazy-ass shit happens when you get involved with the “Free Stuff” area of Craigslist.

This is a proven fact. If you know what you’re doing it can be very rewarding. Today I was rewarded.

I posted this:

I used to have an awesome dog named Chuck. He only had three legs.

Before you email to ask: No, I don’t know how he lost it. He never told me.

Anyway, Chuck was a very tall black lab. He weighed over 100 pounds and when standing on his hind legs he was almost as tall as I am (5’4″)
Because he was missing a front leg he had to hop on his good leg when he walked. But you shouldn’t feel bad for him, he was spoiled rotten. Well, at least for all the years that he lived with me. He was so spoiled that my step-dad made him a custom water bowl so that he wouldn’t have to bend down to drink. This, I can assure you, is not an easy feat for a dog missing a front leg.

It’s been many years now and I still miss Chuck. After he passed away I gave most of his things to a friend who had just adopted a new puppy. But I kept the water dish because it seemed like a one-of-a-kind thing. I mean really, how many three-legged dogs does one meet on a regular basis?

Recently, I came across it again. I can honestly say that we have no plans to get a dog in the near future three-legged or otherwise. But I look at that water dish and think “Is there a dog out there that needs this?” How can I keep it if there is a three-legged dog out there in danger of capsizing every time he/she goes for a drink?

So here it is, my old dog’s water dish up for grabs. If you know of a three- legged dog (or maybe just a really LARGE dog) that is in need of a little aqueous assistance, please email.

Now, remember how I tried to find a suitable taker for the Large Red Area Rug (with Tassels)? That was an adventure I don’t mind telling you! In the end I had almost 200 people emailing me for that area rug.

TWO HUNDRED PEOPLE.

And they all wanted that area rug. Some pleaded, some demanded, some cajoled and some asked very nicely. But they all wanted the rug.

Which is why I was expecting a lot of people to email me about the dog dish. I was wrong.

Firstly, I have had twenty-two responses so far from the ad. That’s cool. Not everybody has a need for a standing water dish catering to a three-legged dog.

But then comes the weird part. Are you ready for the weird part?

Only five people actually want the water dish. Everyone else wrote to tell me things. How much they liked the ad, how I should get another dog, how there is a three-legged dog down the street from them, how I could donate it to the County Animal Shelter if I don’t find any takers and one woman who decided to tell me the story of her life in dogs.

I think.

I couldn’t really tell. Maybe you can figure it out. My point being that most of the people wrote didn’t need the dish, they just wanted to thank me for posting the story.

So that was nice in an unexpected way. It was also eerily reminiscent in a way. All those responses brought me back to  my time with Chuck. And how, for some reason completely beyond my scope of comprehension, people would see me walking my three-legged dog and feel the need to talk to me and …tell me things.

Not bad things. Well, mostly not bad things. Just…strange things.

For example, Chuck and I were running errands one day. On our way back from the sandwich shop I was approached by a man in a suit and tie.  When I looked up at him, he had tears in his eyes. He smiled a sweet, sad little smile and said:

“Bless you. My mother only had one leg.”

Whaaa? I mean sure, my dog only has three legs – your mom only had one. But doesn’t that mean that my dog had two more legs than your mom? How does that even correlate to the fact that we’re outside a sandwich shop and you are in tears? I guess for him it did. So I smiled and said:

“He’s the best dog in the world.”

‘Cause really, what is the proper response to that statement? I’ll tell you. There is no proper response.

I speak from experience in this matter because Suit and Tie guy was not the only person I ran into throughout my dog years that confessed to having a one-legged mother. Why just mothers? Did no one care if they had a one-legged dad? Perhaps those people don’t like dogs? I don’t know.

I’ve also seen several prosthetic legs. Not willingly, mind you. But people see that three-legged dog hoppin’ down the street and they start pulling up their pant legs. One guy had a bright purple aluminum bar for a leg. Bright. Fricken’ Purple.

I have been yelled at,

“Get that dog a fake leg!”

Questioned incessantly,

“How did your dog lose his leg? How come you don’t know? Can you walk that dog?”

Even offered a ride to the vet.

“I see your dog has a thorn in his paw, do you need help?”

But the best experience I had was completely silent.

Chuck and I were on our daily rounds. As we passed a cute little craftsman style house the front door opened and a man in his early forties stepped out.  He had a garbage bag in his hand. He put the bag down and turned around to close the door behind him. That’s when I noticed that he only had one arm. When he turned back around to pick up his garbage he noticed us wobbling down his sidewalk. He assessed Chuck for a second and smiled. Then he looked me in the eye and gave a slight nod that said:

“I approve of your dog there. You may be alright too.”

I smiled back at him and and we hopped on. And for the rest of the walk all I could think was

“That guy was missing the same arm as my dog!”

Ah, Chuck.

I miss you buddy.

Craigslist Ad Posted (Tuesday 8:29pm):

I have a huge, red area rug. My sister gave it to me about seven years ago but it is at least ten years old. It has been vacuumed at least once a month and has lived out all of it’s area-rug life to date in a non-smoking house. We have two cats that have rolled over every square inch of the rug, but you really can’t see much cat-hair since it is patterned with various colors, mostly red. Did I say it is red? It’s red, mainly. It has tassels. They are white.

There is nothing wrong with this rug except for two things:

1. I hate it.
2. My sister does not want it back.

Do you want it? You can have it. I would love for it to go to a nice home with nice people that will be nice to it for the rest of it’s area-rug life but I’m not going to be too picky. If you want to use this mainly red, be-tasseled, ginormous area rug to line your garage floor, because you think your car needs a break at the end of the day, then go for it. Just don’t tell me about it. The last thing I want is to feel *guilty* about giving the rug away because I hated it too much to pack it up and bring it down to the Goodwill. That would make me hate it even more. Please don’t do that to me. Just take the rug and smile.

Here is a picture of it so that you may see I am not lying when I say there is really nothing wrong with the rug (except for my undying animosity) that a good cleaning won’t help. If you would like to care for this area rug please email me. Please don’t email me with a phone number though because I will not call you. I can barely remember to call my mother once a week and it is highly unlikely that I’m going to call someone I don’t know about a rug I can’t stand. Sorry but it’s true. Email is the best way. Trust me on this.

Truly, I have come to hate this rug.

First reply, 8:34 pm:

Hi, I just saw your posting on Craigslist.
Please give me a call as soon as you can.
206-555-1212
Thank you,
Jerry

Third Reply, 8:37 pm:

im steve

At this point I am called away to do housework/dishes/urgent Mafia Wars things and I do not check my email until about 9 am the following morning. At which point, this happens:

Subject line: Perfect adoptive home for be-tassled beauty

Bare hardwood floored living room in a 1939 colonial in Lynnwood is applying for adoption of your elegant rug. For the last few years my owners have been moving to Switzerland and have stripped me of all my dignity – the last to go was my prized Karastan rug which was the last touch of warmth in my life. Now I echo and in my search for new owners I am sure this will be a detriment. In this difficult housing market my now unemployed owners are trying their best to find a lovely family to again grace my spacious, elegant dimensions but alas, their limited means prohibit much financial outlay.
When your generous listing appeared my heartwood beat a little more hopefully,
Could this be it? I shudder at the thought of oil drips on its mostly red (my favorite colour by the way [I like the British spelling]) surface as an alternative to a grand existence in front of my magnificent mantled and marbled fireplace – please say I do and my owners will be there  posthaste to consummate the match.
Yours truly,
Thanking you in advance
18X24 Living room on quiet wooded cul-de-sac in Lynnwood (of all places!)

Dear Bare, hardwood floored living room,

I spent many years in Lynnwood. It is a nice area. I would love to get back there. Please, come rescue me from this miserable existance. The people here hate me. I just know they do. I can feel it every time they step on me.

You can find me at:

XXXX XXXth St

Seattle WA 98133

My captors are good people I am assured but I am starting to fear for my life. If you can come get me this evening I would be much obliged but I will understand if you cannot come until the weekend. Thank you so very much. I look forward to meeting you.

I await your reply,

-Large red area rug (with tassels)

My dear be-tasseled area rug,

Be reassured that my suit has received a positive response and I am overjoyed and creaking a bit in anticipation of our meeting. Though I know your fringes are quaking with fear in your current hostile environment, be calmed in contemplation of your future happiness.

I have every assurance that your captors may bear some ill feelings, if only toward your excessive redness or possibly your tassels, but are doing their best to find you an appreciative audience. My owners, recognizing that the best things in life are free, will be there to rescue you at about 6:30 of the o’clock if that sounds agreeable.

Google maps says that your home is easy to locate but my owners, being a bit senior, would appreciate any helpful hints necessary in finding your location easily.

Until tonight,

Bare hardwood floored living room – but, call me bare no more after this evening.

Dear hardwood floor,

I await your arrival with all the excitement my tassels can muster. I will be vacuumed and rolled up by 6:30 this evening.

You can easily find this cold, heartless prison by taking I-5 south (information deleted to protect the innocent and to keep you all from showing up at my house.)

I am being held captive in the Bright blue house on the North side of the street 3/4 of the way up the hill.

If you get lost you can call 206-555-1212. When she understands your plan to take me away from this place, I am sure the Lady captor will prove accommodating.

My synthetic woolen heart sings in anticipation of our meeting,

-Large red area rug (with tassels)

Dear future hearth-mate,

My owners will arrive with bells to match your tassels. Don’t be dismayed about the means of conveyance to our union.  I am sure our next owners will drive a better class of vehicle – more in suiting to our high standards. As it is, please excuse the shabby 92 green honda pulling a rusty utility trailer that will arrive to whisk you out of your current misery to Lynnwood. Tis but a short drive to warmth and comfort. Shall we have a fire in the fireplace tonight to celebrate?

Yours, Floor

Thank your custodians, as I do, for a Craigslist meeting of minds and needs

See you tonight.