Rescuing a Homeless Puppy
March 18th of 2010, we only had Lucy. We liked it that way.
At age 6, Lucy is easy-going, sweet, and was our baby girl. She had just finished the phase of kidnapping my underwear and socks for her woogieness. And I had just been trained to not give her chicken bones due to a most unfortunate visit to the vet which yielded a 3 inch buffalo wing bone stuck in her gum.
Earlier this time last year, Chris and I had discussed adopting another dog but Chris reminded me of the training and how life was already perfect with Lucy. She was easy to take on trips and two dogs anyway? We'd just be asking for trouble to upset the balance. I thought about it and agreed. Okay. Just Lucy.
On March 19, 2010 - it was a Friday - Chris and I went to our local coffee shop. And we did something we'd never done. When we bought our coffee and walked out, I said, "Hey let's go for a walk." So we turned right - the direction headed toward the shops and township - and just started walking. The college kids, cars, lights and energy offered the early night promise of excitement! And we were enjoying it....
We weren't even two blocks into our stroll when I spotted him.
"Oh my gosh! Look at that!" I said.
A little black and white puppy with long legs is haulin' ass as quickly and as dignified as you please down the sidewalk with a green collar and no human supervision. Watching as he takes a swervy detour into the bushes near a bank, I could not believe he didn't have a human with him on this busy road and especially at night. I quickly looked around for a face that showed recognition they were at least watching him.
Lots of people, but nothin'.
I saw nothing except people walking this way and that way. I looked at the cars parked on the street for a light on that might indicate he'd jumped out a car. No lights. Nothing.
So I squatted down, "Hey you, little guy. Come here!"
He turned his head away from the bush he was occupied with, smiled at me and ran right up to me. I petted him, looked for the tag that would say who he belonged to and there wasn't one. I asked him who he belonged to and he just smiled, wagged his tail, and licked my face.
Chris is telling me, "Oh he's fine. I'm sure they're around here somewhere." I'd really hoped so, too.
Reluctantly, I let go of his collar and allowed him to continue on his adventures. My heart sank a little because there was too much traffic on this busy main road of our town for me to feel comfortable in letting him go. And besides, what homeless dog wears a green collar that is in fine condition? Someone has to be missing this dog!
Less than 30 seconds after letting him go, the following happens all within less than 4 seconds: He decides to not head back toward the bank [right] but toward the road [left]. I see out the corner of my left eye, a minivan coming at about 35mph. I see this pup crossing between the two parked cars with no signs of slowing down. Algebraic word problem popped into my head: "At what speed would a dog coming from this angle have to travel in order to get killed by a a car traveling 35 mph from that angle?" Panic.
I remember knowing that I was going to witness the death of this dog and I remember exclaiming: "Oh my God!" The adventuring puppy heard me long enough to pause and turn to look at me. But his stance didn't change; He was still going to cross the street!
I knelt down again as he turned to face the street before him.
And I said, "Hey puppy! Come here!" And that was all he needed.
He jaunted clumsily to me, too long legs and all, and I swept him up in my arms.
He was surprisingly light and nestled right there in my arms like he'd been there for hours.
"We're taking him home!" I said. And I turned around into the opposing direction to our car.
Our conversation went something like: "No, Digits."; "Yes, Chris."; "No, Digits!"; "Yes, sweetheart." and "No!" and, from me, a final "Yes! This is happening. If he's staying homeless so am I."
Now normally I'm not bossy. But when my heart speaks to me I tend to follow it. This was one such case. Plus, as even-balanced as Chris is... Even he knew that this guy staying out here would mean certain death. I'm glad he relented in good spirits, otherwise the dog and I would both be homelessly adventuring. And I have a feeling homeless puppy have a better chance.
And now, we have a "Floppy." And Lucy has a little brother. And I have less shoes, less socks, less shirts, less mattress foam crate, less pillows, less blankets...but I'm not complaining. It's Floppy. It's his job.
I'm sure we'll have more adventures in the future, while the rest remains in the hands of a beautiful history.