An otherwise ordinary morning.

We had an adventure at the library today. This should not come as a surprise to those of you who know how much time we spend there, and that libraries are full of magic (having been raised by a librarian myself, I can attest to this).

It seemed like an ordinary visit until Will and I met an unlikely friend on a brief trip to the van. As we walked out the sliding doors, we were greeted by a jolly..golden..FAT..adorably ugly and utterly lost bulldog. This dog's face held possibly the most innocent, guileless expression I have ever seen. I stopped to pet it, after it had lumbered in front of us and deposited its fleshy face on my hip. Every single move this creature made was accompanied by a loud snuffle.

After a quick petting(and the discovery of a ridiculously hard skull even for a bulldog), Will and I continued past the dog to the van. Unbeknown st to us, this hapless hog-of-a-dog had caught a bit of the library magic through proximity, and found itself imbued with the ability to become our absolutely silent shadow. As I spoke with Will and began settling him into his seat, I was shocked to see this dog appear INSIDE the van!
We watched incredulously as the pooch used a considerable amount of effort(as he did with all motion) to squeeeeeeze between the middle van seats and heave himself up onto the bucket seat of the van, where he proceeded to vacuum up assorted kid snacks which had fallen there.

Will and I were stunned.astounded! and fascinated by this jovial canine who had apparently adopted us in less than two minutes' time. I tried hard to keep a straight, *This-is-no-big-deal-hideous-bulldogs-hop-into-strangers'-vans-
all-the-time-I-know-just-what-to-do* face(which became progressively harder as I called, coaxed, baited, etc).
As soon as our sweet friend realized that what I wanted was to get him OUT of the VAN his mug took on a new expression: one of stoic disobedience. He staged a peaceful protest as I tugged on meaty shoulders and metal collar. Finally I remembered the baggy of Cheerios on the front seat and used the contents to lay a trail, luring him after me out of the van. The time spanned from introduction to extrication couldn't have been more than five minutes, proving again that you don't have to make a lot of room in your schedule for ludicrous adventures.

The story ends well for the dog, who went straight from our van right up to the automatic doors of the library, let himself in, and took a tour before being lured out, again, by a trail of cheerios(I would put the estimated weight of 'Hubba' at about 90 lbs, so no one was really going to *make* him go anywhere).

A kind gentleman passed us in the foyer and I could instantly see that he knew dogs, loved them, was gentle, and wanted to help. So I took off the leash I had made from my belt as he fashioned his(incidentally almost identical) belt to trade jobs. We quickly agreed that he would help track down the owner and I would concentrate on getting our library group back together. Will & I did our best to tell Daniel and Angela what had happened, and were met with some understandable skepticism on Daniel's part(it *is* a far-fetched tale);he decided I would need a witness to corroborate, and Will obliged with a documented retelling.

This is pretty much the dog, except yellow. And fatter/taller/more doleful.

And here is a video of Will's take on events. ( **Disclaimer** This is video taken with a cell phone, so the quality is pretty bad. Also, the whole dog fiasco happened during the administration of a time-out for attempted sibling injury..one of our only sad moments at the library that morning, which is an accomplishment considering how long we were there with three kids and three adults. Needless to say, much of the inherent gravity of the 'Time Out' experience was lost on Will as soon as we crossed paths with 'Hubba')