Is it that hard to say "Thank You?"

Tonight, Andrew and I were over at Shane and Kim's house eating pizza and watching movies. It was pouring rain when we got there, and it had been raining all day. Andrew looked up and saw a small soaking wet Yorkie wandering through the yard.

"Oh my gosh! It's a little Yorkie!"

He was clearly lost wandering up the hill, down the bank, into the trees. Andrew donned his shoes and grabbed a piece of pizza crust and went outside. The little guy came running up to Andrew who picked the super-saturated little guy up in his arms and walked to the front. I had come outside to meet the wiggly wet worm, and I called the phone number on his tags.

"Hello?"
"Yes, do you have a Yorkie named,'Taz?'"
"Yes, I do."
"Well we have him."
"Where are you?"
"We're at ________. We are in the Cul de Sac...the house with the Mustangs."
"I was JUST over there calling for him." (in a snotty voice)
"Well, we're just on the front porch."
"I'll be right over. My mother opened the door and he got out. I have a pink and white umbrella."

She came trudging over to us. I went inside. Andrew handed her the little guy, and she just looked at Andrew then looked at the dog and said, "You are in SO much trouble!" and she walked off!

What the Hell? Would it have killed her to say, "Thank You?" If it was MY dog, I would be ecstatic that not only he was found, but someone took the time to call instead of keeping such a high-dollar, high-demand dog as a Yorkshire Terrier.

Poor little guy. He had been outside awhile to be so wet.

I hope he didn't get into too much trouble. It wasn't his fault.