In Which I Find a Stray

someone left an adolescent boxer tied to the police station across the street. He broke free and the first I heard of him was a couple asking everyone in the neighborhood who happened to be around if he was theirs. I was letting my dogs out for a pee, which happened to co inside with my next-door neighbors doing the same.

I tried to ignore the fact there was any dog, but...

Two teen boys had him on a leash, and seemed hesitant to bring him home to their dad. I later found out that he had been the one to find him and tie him to the police station in the first place. Obviously, he didn't want to be involved.

He was a gorgeous dog, with a perfectly beautiful coat and sweet, liquid brown eyes. What killed me was his demeanor, though; he didn't realize he was alone; and he cuddled and kissed everyone around him, like they were family. He was a great fellow.

Eventually, me and the boys walked back to their house, so I could make sure it was ok for the dog to stay in their garage for the night. They were good kids. We chatted about what we would name him, and I taught them that his coat was a "brindle" coat. The dog trotted along with us, using perfect manners.

One boy went in to get his dad, and the other turned to me and said, "My dad is actually nice, but he's big and loud, and most people are afraid of him."


I resolved to be brave, and asked Mr. Scary if the dog could lodge in their garage for the night. We don't have one. He said alright, but I didn't believe him, so I asked if he promised.

"Yeah!" he barked at me, and I prayed that he wasn't lying. I promised to call animal control first thing, to come get the dog out of his yard.

Rob finally called me back (I had been calling him throughout) and told me I was welcome to bring in any friendly strays we found hence forth. It's a bit late. Really, though, I should have taken him and fed him and let him sleep here, which may or may not (it is, it totally is) be a horrible idea. I have two dogs already who might not be too keen on having their pack of two invaded.

I still wish I had.

I hate that feeling you get when you get a glimpse of how sad things are in this world, and you want to fix it all NOW, but you can't. The animal control won't come out on a Sunday for a non-injured, non-vicious animal. I have to strong arm a cranky guy into letting a dog sleep in his garage for the night. The police won't help. In the middle is an innocent puppy who thinks everyone loves him, and I'm there, too, not knowing what in the hell to do (and forgetting to at least give him a cup of dog food! Geeze, Amber!)