No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

On my short walk from the car to the office with my doggie yesterday morning,  I noticed a brand new bike laying against a large planter not chained up.  I quickly stored that vision in the back of my brain.  Fast forward to a facebook post that I saw a few hours later detailing the local bike shop that was broken into.  Fast forward to my lunch break where I walked the same route back to my car/office.  Bike still there.  Fast forward again to me walking same route at 5:30 pm.  Bike still there.  The building that it was laying against is now closed and a overhead light is shining directly onto this bike as if God was telling me, "This is a stolen bike.  Bring it back to its owner."  I found the # to the bike shop, called them, and whatdoyaknow, my new cell phone using the local coverage wasn't working.  The store owner could barely hear me, and so I decided since the bike store was literally a block down from my work, and I was driving the big rig that day, I'd load er up, and return it to the bike shop. Only when I got to the bike store they said this was not one of the bikes that was stolen.  

Awesome.  So I just stole the bike.  In my mind, I was being recorded on a "Bait Bike" reality show and now was about to have to explain myself with, "I was just moving it to a safer area" or "I was taking it to the police station, I swear!"   But since I'm not a thief, don't need a bike, and not on meth, I returned it to the place I found it, and thankfully no camera crew was hiding in the bushes.  

This morning? Bike was still there. So I decided to take a picture, and of course I had to have Lola in it because I'm that Mom. 

Its Miller Time

Miller Franklin Broyles

Born October 25th, 2000

Loves long walks and eating

Saying this big boy loves eating is an understatement.  He would eat til he couldn't possibly eat anymore.  Then he'd rest for about 5 minutes and then eat more.  He's always hungry, the poor guy.  

Miller is at our house right now for the whole month and he's really a joy to have around.  He smiles all the time, keeps Lola company, and cleans our kitchen floor.  He adds a few minutes to my schedule in the morning because I have to go around and make sure every single door in my house is closed because the boy loves getting into things, like garbage cans.  Bathroom garbage cans. Gross.  

Saturday, Hottie Hubs and I went to dinner for all of 45 minutes.  When we came back, we found a dinner plate on the ground in the kitchen broken and no longer holding the 30 chocolate cupcakes with chocolate frosting I had made the night before.  So he apparently can manage getting his old bones onto the kitchen chair and pull the saran-wrapped plate off the table.  Not sure if Lola helped him, but I'm guessing she just watched it all go down.  I'm not saying she's innocent, because she most likely ate a few cupcakes while Miller was trying to swallow the saran wrap, but she didn't have the toots and the stomach gurgling like Mills did that night.  

I woke up in the middle of the night and took care of the poor boy.  He had to go out twice, both times for a pretty long time and I gave him lots of water and a little more food to kinda help the cake along.  I knew that chocolate was poison for dogs, but I also knew that the boxed cake I made was probably more chocolate flavoring than actual chocolate.  And the frosting was probably more sugar than anything.  

During the Superbowl. He's learned nothing. 

He's fine.  I mean he's still workin it all out, but I'll spare you the details, other than the nickname that came to me in the middle of the night.  


He's now Milly Wonka.  And our backyard is now the Chocolate Factory.