Returning someone’s mis-delivered mail isn’t usually that challenging of a good deed … unless the person has a dog that barks like it’s about to jump out and have you for lunch (which has happened to me) … or unless, like today, it’s freezing and half-raining, half-snowing, and all-around miserable.
The mailbox is right across the street so I admit it momentarily flashed across my mind to simply write “Wrong Address” on the envelopes and toss them in.
But that seemed, well, wrong.
So I braved the elements, set out down the street to find the number on the envelopes and deposited them in their mail slot.
I’m happy to report, no rabid dogs in sight… this time.