On Thursday night, I went to an injury crash involving a parked car on a busy residential street in the central part of the city. When I got there, I saw the driver sitting on the curb with fire personnel. His right eye was purple and swollen shut like Rocky Balboa after 15 rounds with Apollo Creed.
I looked at the scene and could tell the driver was northbound when he veered to the right and hit a parked truck.
I also saw a woman sitting on a retaining wall with a small dog in her arms about ten feet away from the driver. I dind’t pay attention to her because I thought she was one of the many onlookers, who were standing around and watching the show.
After the fire guys were done, I walked up to the driver and asked him what happened. With quivering lips he said, “I had my puppy on my lap.”
I looked back at the woman with the dog and realized the driver’s four-legged passenger must’ve had a rough ride.
The driver said, “My puppy put his head through the steering wheel. I pulled his head out and then tried to swerve away from the truck.”
After the driver was done telling me how the collision occurred, I said, “Doggone it.”
The joke hand grenade was in the air waiting for the driver to get it, but he never did. At least Noggie, who was standing next to me, got it.
After I was done with the interview, the driver sat on the curb and called someone. While he was on the phone, his voice changed and he became upset. I could tell from the conversation that the person on the other end didn’t believe his puppy story.
At one point he said, “I wasn’t fucking texting! The dog was on my lap and he stuck his head in the steering wheel!”
He was in the middle of his argument when I walked over to him and said, “If it makes you feel better, I believe you.”
He looked up at me with the most sincere look and said, “Thank you.”
My gut feeling told me he was telling the truth. Plus, his story was so crazy it was believable. It was the least I could do for the poor guy because his eye really did look like Rocky Balboa’s after a beat down.
You just can’t make this stuff up.