Ever wonder (and wish) that you could break some sort of strange code that the universe seems to be flinging your way and that if you had half a clue you could win millions of dollars in the lottery?
Then you wrack your brain and there is no way you can make heads or tails of it.
Happens to me all the time.
Like everytime you borrow your college roomate's car Super Tramp is playing on the radio?
true story
Every time you stop at a red light, people in the next car are listening to Pink Floyd but no one in the band died?
true story
You hear the Girl from Ipanema more than 7 times in a week in elevators, on hold, on the radio, and on TV?
true story
You are sent the same forwarded email from 4 people you have not spoken to in years, on the same day, and you have already seen it, and blogged it over a year ago?
true story
You have 6 dogs in class named Murphy in the same week.
true story
Five people call you on the same day for help with their Mastiffs and none are from the same breeder?
true story
You have a craving for carmel corn and come home and find your Mother sent you a care package with carmel corn?
true story
For three days in a row, every single work call you get is for potty training?
true story
No lie, all these things and many many many more have happened to me.
Which leads to the frogs. I have found two tree frogs in less than one month when dealing with dog poop.
I repeat, two tree frogs. Prior to this I have never ever seen a tree frog in the wilds of Maine.
Meet Tree frog numero uno
I was lifting up the trash can at Pet Pantry in Freeport during training class to dispose of a puppy's poop and the not so little guy was hanging on to the side of the trash can.
I screamed like a little girl. Not because of my fear of frogs, but the little sucker startled me.
Turns out Gray frogs are native to Maine and they sing like a bird, really, really loud.
And Tree Frog Poopio dos
Last week I took only Charlee for a special walk at Baxter Woods in Portland. The parking lot has a wooden box filled with bags for poop disposal. I grabbed one and walked for a good 45 minutes. When I got back to the car, I found that Charlee hadn't had me all to herself, but that she shared her walk with a little Spring Peeper who had been clinging inside the shopping bag the whole time. Lucky for him, Charlee went before she left the house!
Anyone wants to calculate the odds and send me the winning lottery numbers?
Mucho appreciado.
No frogs were harmed in the making of this blog.
This blog brought to you by my not so good friends Super Tramp.
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