Save me, too

I suppose it was no surprise to me when I looked in the mirror tonight and saw a zit on my chin.

Because when I tried to corral 25 kindergarten students on the last day of school aka "Fun Day" with their parents lurking in the not-so-far-outskirts it did not go quite as smoothly as I had planned. If I had planned for 24(which I did), instead of 25 (which I didn't), on the one-of-the-last-days-of-school (which I did), instead of the last (which I didn't) it could have gone better.
But, alas...

Get to work. Blah, blah, blah.

By the time I picked up the pooch I was feeling ready for a walk. This was set back a few minutes when the gal informed me "face eater" showed up at daycare today.

"TAKE NO PRISONERS" he mouthed, right into another dog.
Chomp!
What's a gal to do? I cried, of course!
But, but... but. He's so... good.
Right?
Emotions were high.
There are people, he will learn, it's the hormones, don't give up, make it work.
We walked. A man came up behind us.
Heart raced.... please don't have a dog.
No dogs allowed.
Oh. We're gone.
Another place.
Dog.
Turn around.
Dog.
Cut across the field.
Phew.
Now I am the threat. Dog, dodge, dog, panic, dog, HELP!

I get to the grocery store and bee-line to the chip aisle. As chip-people go, I am not one. It just seemed right. The stress! Oh, and 2 for $4 Tootsie Rolls?
Well... I am my mother's daughter.

Drive home finds me thinking,
so maybe he's just not my dog. I tried,
he bit.
There will be others.

When we get there
he is perfect.
He always is.
Ah, yes, my dog.

Talk with Eric my mouth blurts "If he needs to be saved,
I want us to be the ones to do it."
What is that?
Ah yes, I am my mother's daughter.

I want to be the one who saves him.
His story,
he is telling it.
It is so sad.

I want to be the one who saves him.