When Jess and I first go married, almost a year and a half ago now, we started out living in New Albany in the Sugar Run apartments. Taking the trash out there was a real ordeal, growing more painful as winter came and the unbearably cold weather set in. Anyway, for reasons unknown - possibly budget restrictions? - only one common dumpster was available for the entire complex. Since we lived on the far side away from the dumpster, I was forced to fill my car trunk with bags of trash and drive it over.
Eventually, I started letting our dog Phoebe ride along with me. She soon came to love trash day, and even the slightest rustling of a garbage bag would send her to the the front door waiting expectantly, wagging her tail.
Now we live in a house, and our trash can is in the garage. Good for us. Heartbreaking for Phoebe. Although, Phoebe still continues to hold on to the Sugar Run hope. This morning, I was taking out the trash from the kitchen to the garage. Phoebe came running out of her den - she likes to take an early morning nap - wagging her tail, ready to head out to the Sugar Run dumpster. I told her sorry, not this time.
But, maybe in five years or so, when nearly all hope is lost, I'm thinking we might just have a Sugar Run dumpster reunion. Just the two of us. For old times sake.
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