You know how sometimes you just want to reach out to humanity and show you care; to help? Yeah, well I was in the supermarket the other day and I did just that.
There was a man in a wheelchair who was in the baking aisle looking at bags of flour. He was looking up at the ones on the top shelf so I asked him if I could get one down for him. He growled at me, like really growled and said “if I wanted your help I’d ask for it.” And there I was stumbling over my words as I walked away feeling embarrassed, I mumbled ” well, that was a bit salty now, wasn’t it.” It seemed appropriate being in the spice and baking aisle and all.
And it brings us to the salty dog drink. Salty and sour and kind of kicks you. Again seems appropriate as I once knew a salty dog.
Her name was Danielle. I named her that because she was so absurdly ugly that I thought she could use a beautiful name. She was a “drop off dog”. Someone had driven for miles on a remote logging road and dumped her there. To die. It’s horrible to think about that.
The thing with logging roads, is that there are loggers using them, and my husband saw this scrawny, dirty, little grey/black terrier dog by the side of the road and stopped his fully loaded logging truck to investigate. The little dog was skinny and just plain sad so he put her in the truck and brought her home.
I bathed her made her a soft bed in a box and gave her a beautiful name. She was very weak and I fed her special food and nursed her back to health for a week. The first time I let her out by herself she took off like a shot to chase the first car she spotted, caught it and ended up flattened on the road. I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked. In the space of a few minutes there she was; healthy, fast and dead. As I scraped her up, put her back in the box-bed I had made and dug her grave, I thought well, why did you do that? A bit salty now, don’t you think?