1) Feed dogs.
2) Shower and get dressed.
3) Meet Brandon at Costco for lunch (footlong polish dog and a drink for $1.50 - you can't beat that!).
4) Stop at WalMart for Listerine and Dawn dish soap (mix equal parts in a sprayer attached to the garden hose and it'll beat down the dog smell in your yard - it's fabulous, I promise!).
5) Drive home minding my own business.
6) Screech to a halt at neighborhood entrance when I catch sight of a dog headed toward me dodging traffic.
7) Grab a can of cat food (hey, it's all I had!) a leash, my cell phone and jump out of the car.
8) Proceed down road for at least 1/2 mile begging the dog to stop, praying to St. Francis that we don't get run over and calling the police for officer assistance.
9) Slip lead over dog's head when he finally admits defeat and walk him the 1/2 mile back home. With a police escort.
10) Have officer hold dog in driveway while I run in and set up yet another crate.
11) Call Brandon at work in a feeble attempt to explain why we now have EIGHT dogs at our house. Did I mention that our HOA limit is two? Oh, and our CITY limit is six!
12) Feed dogs.
See, it all comes full circle. Here's the pitiful pup that found me today. Pit bull. Male. Intact. Skin and bones. Limping. Covered in puncture wounds, new and old. He's been asleep in my sewing room for the last six hours, waking only to eat. He's tired. And he's broken. And I have no clue what tomorrow will bring.