Warning: This is going to be a multiple part story. Maybe two, maybe three parts. Could be four the more I think about it. Indulge me. It’s a tad bit involved… Understatement when I think about more as well. It’s all worth it. I promise. Now on with show.
In the world of gig jobs, in this case goods delivery from vendors to customers, it is quite random how deliveries are assigned to drivers. It’s all determined by complicated computer algorithms with very little, if any, human interaction. Its pretty much just luck of the draw which driver is assigned to deliver an order to any particular address. Adding to the randomness is the driver can decline the run for any reason. All this randomosity staggers me in how the hell I ended up with this dog at all.
In my experience here, I was doing DoorDash deliveries. It was a beautiful mid-September day. I accepted a delivery to an address of no special meaning to me. I had never delivered to the place before that day. The run paid an average amount and it was from a restaurant that I enjoyed. Yummy as hell Indian food, kind and welcoming staff and they were good at educating me about the sport of cricket. The aroma of their food was welcome in my vehicle and nose forever and always at any time. Chicken tikka masala and garlic naan bread has that effect on me. But I digress.
When I arrived at the gate to the yard I immediately noticed this utterly handsome young dog in a crate that was a size too small for it. Chocolate brown with white markings and these beautiful golden brown eyes. I was in love immediately. This is not unusual for me. See dog. Love dog.
Now I must say I’m rather brazen and bold when it comes to the welfare of an animal. I used to not be this way but a certain puppy changed me. That dog’s story will be very lengthy. Anyhoo, I went to the door of the house to make the delivery. Insert more randomness here. It is up to the customer to just have the delivered order left at their door or have the delivery handed to them directly. In this case it was supposed to be a drop and go no-contact delivery. But wait! The customer opened the door!
“Here ya go! Thank you!” I said while holding my thoughts about the dog in the crate in check. Well, almost.
“I have to ask. What’s with the dog?” I let slip. No un-ringing that bell now.
“Well he was abandoned by a neighbor that moved out. We can’t have pets because we rent but we didn’t want him to get hurt.” the lady told me.
I’ve heard this line before and it usually isn’t rather truthful. Call me jaded but damn if I’m not after living all my years. There’s a zillion shades of gray between the whole truth and an outright lie.
“We want to find a good home for him but he just wants to run away. It’s not fair to him because he’s a really sweet dog.”
“He looks like he’s a good boy.”l
“He really is.”
Oh damn, am I ever in deep shit now. And then I folded. A little. In my mind I had already submitted to my fate.
“Okay. I know where he is now. Can I get your number and text you back later?”
I was sliding further down the slippery slope. Dangit.
“Sure!” She said and gave me her phone number.
By this point I was neck deep in my emotions when it comes to dogs needing a safe home. I spent the next hour doing a couple more deliveries before I just gave the hell up. Punched in the digits and that was that. I was drowning now. Oh well.
I told her I would be over the next day to get the boy. I should point out this all happened on a Thursday. Fridays are by far the busiest and most profitable days of the week. I knew it was going to cost me earnings. And I really could not care less when a dog was the reason.
Seeing how I was totally committed to adopting this dog, it was time to dream up a name for him. They said the neighborhood called him Scooby but it didn’t seem to be anything he responded to. That and it’s just too damn easy and common of a name. Here’s where I haven’t a lot of experience. Out of all my dogs I have never named one without any input from any other person. It’s odd to think about it but it’s the truth. (There is a wrinkly complication here but that’s a story much further down the road and it isn’t a particularly happy one.) Sooooo, think.
What else has meaning to me? After dogs my next passion is firearms, specifically their history, design and engineering. It’s beauty of complexity has always amazed me. This will factor into another, failed, naming attempt for another pup. Back to the point though, there is one individual who stands out as a giant in the firearms design realm. John Moses Browning was that genius.
Got it!
Moses ye shall be called, young pup. But I had to be special. Did I mention he was chocolate brown? Why, yes! Yes I did! I decided that my new dog would hereby be formally addressed as John Moses Browndog.
I think this a good place to end this part of the story of Moses. There is a prologue to write involving another, pain in the ass, beautiful, bossy, wonderful member of the pack. She needs to be introduced properly to give a bit of context to the next part of the story of The Most Random Dog on the World.