The other day Luna got out. The Hippie stayed home to watch our zombie and Doctor Jones. She wasn't feeling well that day (but is doing much better after going on a dairy-free diet; thanks for your prayers).
Back to the point, the dog got out; The Scribe chased her. I tried following them in the van and instead lost them because I'd be a terrible cop and ALL the villains would get away.
I ended up driving around for half an hour. When I finally decided to check back at home, I found The Scribe walking Luna on a new leash.
"This has been THE WORST day," she said.
"What happened? I was so worried. I looked everywhere for you."
"Luna went under a fence and into someone's backyard. I followed her and got all scrapped up by some rose bushes." She showed me her arms--they looked bad. "Anyway, Luna was there attacking someone's cat. So, since Luna is huge and I couldn't get her to follow me, I jumped on her and then tried keeping her on the ground while the cat got away."
"Oh my gosh. You're so brave." I meant it, too.
"Not really," The Scribe said. "I held Luna for so long and she just wanted to run away. I didn't have a leash or anything, so I started crying for you." She turned to me. "YOU didn't answer!"
"I didn't know where you were."
"Anyway, as I yelled, an old lady opened the back door and saw me fighting with Luna in her yard. Instead of helping, she screamed, went back inside, shut the door and locked it."
"What?! Are you kidding me? She didn't know if you were in danger. She had no idea if Luna was attacking you . . . and she locked the door?"
"Yeah, I got so sad after that, I just stood up and that's when Luna followed me. A nice guy saw Luna following me. He put this leash on her and said I could bring it back whenever."
"What a great person," I said. And it almost made up for the old woman's actions. "But that lady . . . why didn't she help you?"
"It wasn't very nice. She looked really old, though," The Scribe said.
"How old?" I asked.
"At least forty."
I almost choked. How old does she think I look?! "I don't care how old someone is. I don't care if they're young and scrawny. I don't care if they're more selfish than the devil. I don't care IF they're over forty! If I saw a child struggling with A BEAR--I would try to do something to help even if it meant I'd die trying. You don't leave someone to die."
The Scribe giggled. "This really bothers you, doesn't it? A bear?"
"Yeah! I hope you'll remember this. As people, moments will come into our lives when we can help OR stand by as someone else gets hurt. We can make the right choice--a difference."
"I guess we can." The Scribe nodded. "I'll never forget the woman who ignored me, or the man who helped. Most of all I'm just glad Luna's back."
"Me too." I smiled.
After we put Luna in the house, we returned the leash. The man was so nice that I had to tell him about the old lady. "Some people," he said. "Who in the world would turn away from helping a child?"
Yeah, I thought. And to think, The Scribe wasn't even facing a bear!