Not Meant To Be

So, this morning, I planned on heading into Clearwater Beach and getting some pictures of it.  The temperatures were low, around 50 when I was first heading out, perfect for leaving the beach with less beach combers.  As I unlocked Red Rover, a small black dog, looking like part Shih zu or Brussels Griffon with a severe underbite, came running up to me.  He had no collar and looked like he had been out for a day or two but not terribly messed up.  He, well, we’ll call it a bark, barked a bit at me.  I took his picture and sent it to my sister-in-law, but she didn’t know if he belonged to anyone in her neighborhood.  So, I called up animal control.  As I was talking to the lady, the dog jumped into Rover and settled down in the passenger seat.  So, instead of heading out to the beach, I took the little cutie to animal control, who didn’t find a chip, but promised to look for his owner.

Okay, so I head back to the house to shower and change (because he could have had fleas, even if I couldn’t see them), throwing my original clothes in the washer, before once again heading out towards the beach again.

As I began to get close to the overpass, a fire truck and ambulance went flying by me.  But I continued on, figuring they could be headed anywhere in Clearwater.  Then another couple fire trucks and other police and fire cars went flying by.  Soon, I’m stuck in a line of cars are more fire and law enforcement fly up the opposite side of the street.  Twenty minutes later, I realized that there was no way to get to the beach.  The main street was completely closed down.  I turned around (and around and around) and headed home.

Obviously, I wasn’t meant to go to the beach today.


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