So, a guy just rang the bell.
I didn’t recognize him, but he was looking kind of like he was lost, so I opened the door and asked if I could help him.
“Is this the Miller residence?”
“No,” I said.
He looked even more confused, looked around and said, “Where would that be, because I’ve got a package from — I dunno, dog food?”
And I said, “Oh. Yes, you have the right place.”
“Good,” he said, and fetched a much battered Chewy box out of the boot of his car and carried it inside for me.
I said, “The FedEx truck was in my driveway earlier today and left without leaving a package.”
And Howard — my benefactor’s name is Howard — said, “Well, I’ll tell you. That kid was in my driveway, an’ he was in no good mood. Pulled out in a hurry and that box fell right outta the door. I figured, y’know, dog food; the dogs’ll be wantin’ that, and the address was right there, so I brought it along.”
I thanked him profusely and he said he was just glad he could help me out.
So, that mystery solved.
#
Also! Rookie’s vet has texted that Rookie is cured of his temporary inconvenience, and I hope I’m not alone in saying, “Let’s not do that again.”
. . . OK — two things.