How to save a life:

Step one: find a screaming puppy abandoned under a car in Luquillo Beach, Puerto Rico.

Step two: call every homeless dog advocate on the island, and wait painfully, overnight for someone to get back to you. Be physically restrained by your husband from renting a cab to go to Luqillo Beach yourself and get the dog. Be brushed off the the concierge when you walk up to him, tear-stained and sniffing, to ask for phone numbers to call. Have eyes rolled at you by the rest of the family when you mention that you’re trying to save him.

Step three: finally get in touch with someone who can go find him, and try to communicate across Spanglish lines precisely where he is.

Step four: do happy dance in the lobby, complete with crying, when you get word that he is found.

Step five: Just before getting on the plane, decide to keep him. Realize that God and Karma or whatever will NOT let this plane crash with you on it now, and smile through horrendous turbulence (ok, I was smiling when I wasn’t fighting the physical to puke. It was pretty bad. But I wasn’t scared.)

Step six: text message as soon as possible that you want the dog, barring any major problems that cannot be fixed and would hamper his quality of life.

He needs spinal surgery. It’s not going to be cheap, but it’s not horrendously expensive as far as we can tell. We have to acclimate M & L to him. The might not like him. But they might if we give it time. Or maybe right away, in the same way they took to each other. His blood work came back good, no heartworm, which is huge (I just got the phone call while typing). I’ve been on the phone all morning trying to figure out his surgery and flights and things… it’s confusing but, of course, I will keep you posted.

Hopefully he’ll be in our arms by the middle of next week.