First you gotta decide what you're going to do, then you gotta do it

A little note: I've been trying to post every other day. Right now I have a little bit written ahead, and I've been able to stay ahead (I like being ahead and that way if something should come up, as long as I have access to the internet and my laptop, and five seconds to spare, I can always post.) If I should run low on time, or run low on ideas on where to take this, then posting my slow down to two or three times a week. But, I figure, right now I have it, so why not post it? However, Saturday it looks like I'll be gone pretty much the whole day, and Sunday is looking iffy as well. (I spend the day with the inlaws on Saturday. The WHOLE day.) So, my question is, would you rather get a post today AND tomorrow, and skip the weekend, or get a post today, and then not another one until Sunday, MAYBE Monday? I'm obviously posting today either way, but just let me know on the other half. Here's today's post:

The rest of Drew’s visit went by, and was relatively boring. We picked up a futon at Ikea, and he helped me put it together. He still insisted on sleeping in my bed, and though there was this nagging feeling that it was still a bad idea, with all the other drama I was facing – Jason’s impending visit with his new bride being number one on that list – The imagined feelings I feared developing for Drew were totally gone.
I did get an email back from the magician at the club.

GreatDangers@Gmail.com
Re: Your website message
Ha- I remember. You were the cute girl in the dress. Did your boyfriend share his dog… I mean his moose with you? And yes, Dangers is my real last name. Even I’m not lame enough to make that up ;-)

I smiled. Cute girl in the dress? Real descriptive. Glad I made such a big impression. Still, I replied.


Greg-
Not my boyfriend, but no, he didn’t share! And I really wanted a hippo-dog. Oh well, maybe that means I’ll have to hit up another show sometime.

I got an email back from him a lot quicker this time.

Greatdangers@Gmail.com
Ella- Feel free to hit the show up anytime. Always good to have a pretty lady in attendance, and maybe chat afterwards? I’m doing a guest spot at a club in PA for the next two weeks though. Can I email you when I’m back in town and let you know my dates?

I told him that he could email, or text, if that was easier, and gave him my cell phone number. I was a little relieved that he would be out of town for the next couple weeks. Jason had continued to call, and I had continued to be unavailable. I called him back at times when I figured he’d be unavailable, during dinners and lunch, early mornings when he was probably still asleep, to look like we were just playing phone tag. I had decided to let them come, finding no logical or unobvious way to stop them. I couldn’t claim no room – Drew was leaving, and my work guest wasn’t due yet. I couldn’t say I had to work, they knew I had taken vacation. I had to just suck it up and face the music. I would have had to do it sooner or later, I just wish that sooner had come a lot later.
Drew left Saturday afternoon, and I think I caught him off guard with how closely I clung to him, and how badly I reacted to his leaving. Jason had left a message saying he would be in sometime Sunday.
“Can’t you stay even one more day?” I asked Drew, hugging him tight. My words were mumbled into his shirt, and I was hoping he could help me through what would be the initial, and probably hardest hitting, blow.
“No, El.” He answered, bending to kiss the top of my head. He rested his chin there. “I really wish I could, but Dad’s been yelling at me about the business, and I did take off kind of suddenly. I’m sorry.” He said, giving me an extra squeeze.
“I know. It’s OK. Don’t feel bad. I’m glad you came down at all.” I answered, trying to hide the tears. I didn’t want to do this. Why did I have to do this?

Drew left. The house was really quiet. I sat for a minute in the living room, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. I could hear the clock, tick-tocking, counting down the seconds until Jason arrived and I was forced to put on the performance of a lifetime. Once again, I found myself desperately needing a distraction. I took out my phone, scrolling through the contacts, not really looking for anyone, just a nervous habit. However, my phone came across one number, an idea popped into my head. I clicked call.
“Hi Nancy, it’s Ella McLean. How are you?”
“Good. Ella I’m so glad to hear from you… Are you finally done with camp?” She asked.
Nancy was the lady who Jason had donated the money to when Tater died. She ran an organization called Stop the Suffering which pulled dogs from rural, high kill shelters, and gave them a new home. She was always, ALWAYS, looking for foster homes. I couldn’t keep a dog year round anymore, since I was away at camp for seven weeks out of the year, but the by being in the foster program it was a chance to have a dog around, and to save a dogs life.
“Yeah I am. And I’m on vacation for a couple of weeks and looking for a distraction. A big distraction.”
“Like a litter of puppies sized?” She asked, the hope evident in her voice.
“I’ll be over in fifteen.” I said, knowing she was where she was every Saturday at the small garage that someone had donated to use as their intake center.

I arrived home and had to make two trips out to the car for the puppies. There were four of them, and when I said I had wanted a big distraction, Nancy took me quite seriously. At eight weeks old, these St. Bernard-Mastiff mix puppies (pet-stores called this “designer” breed a St. Bermastiff. It’s so funny to me how people say they want a “pure-breed” and then go on to ask for a labradoodle or a puggle. Slap a fancy name on a mutt and viola, you too can charge an extra 500 bucks for it! But, I digress.) were already 35 lbs. Nancy said they had been dropped off that morning, left outside the door for who knows how long, stuffed all together in a box. The note attached blamed the neighbor’s dog for knocking up theirs. But I just wondered, who’s fault was it for not getting either dog fixed?
The house was no longer quiet. It was filled with the sound of puppy feet, puppy barks, puppy growls, and squeaks from various toys or puppies. I was busy, chasing after them, and kicking myself for not thinking of puppy proofing before I went and got the puppies. After I had contained them in the living room, and made sure there was nothing they could kill themselves on, I huffed myself down on a chair.
I looked around and had wondered how good of an idea this really was. Sometimes I decided things at the spur of the moment, and didn’t stop to think about the consequences. One puppy was a lot of work. Four giant breed puppies? Was insane. Besides the fact that while puppies usually placed pretty quickly, Nancy couldn’t tell me how quickly they could place these puppies. Not only were they looking with someone with the time for a puppy, but someone with giant breed experience.
However, when ten minutes later I was covered in puppies, who were passed out from a night of chasing each other and stealing toys for each other, I realized that I had done the right thing. I dozed off on the chair with them, not even thinking of Jason’s arrival.

I woke up with a sore neck to a chorus of barking.
“What the hell Ella?” I heard Jason call. I thought I was dreaming. I stretched, repositioned myself, and started to doze again.
“Ella?” I felt someone shake me. “What did I just step in that was wet? Is that... Awww sick!” I heard Jason mumble.
“Jas? You’re really here?” I asked, sitting straight up and bonking my head into his. “Ow. Yeah, you’re real.” I said, rubbing my temple where we struck.
“What is all this Ella?”
“Oh, the poor dogs. I haven’t taken them out, I fell asleep. I should have at least put paper down.” I stood, still feeling groggy. “What time is it anyway?” I asked, stretching again.
“Six.”
“At night? It can’t be…” I asked, walking to the window.
“No, El” He answered, a small smile playing on his lips. “In the morning.”
“What the hell are you doing here at six AM?” I asked, going into the kitchen for some paper towels to clean up the doggy mess. My foot caught when I lifted it over the baby gate I had put up to block the dogs in, and I almost face planted into the counter. Mornings were not a good time for me.
“I told you I’d be here sometime Sunday.”
“Yeah, but I expected that to be late Sunday. Not six freaking am.” I said, climbing back out. I started picking up little piles and wiping up puddles. Thankfully none of them had stepped in it. I don’t think I was ready to wrangle these guys in a bathtub this early.
“So, what is all this?” Jason asked, gesturing to the dogs and the doggy play room I had made.
“You know I foster. I had some time. They needed help.” I shrugged.
“These guys are big.” He said, crouching down to pet one. It reached around to nip at his fingers.
“Yeah, well, that’s an understatement…” I trailed off. I suddenly realized something, or rather, someone, was missing. “Where’s Kayla?” I asked, lifting the baby gate to usher the dogs into the kitchen and out into the backyard to potty.
“She went home. She needed to pack for California.” He paused. “And, there was something I wanted to ask you. Something Kayla thought was better if we discussed alone.”

Uh oh. This couldn’t be good.