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| Look at that face! You'd adopt him too! |
It's morning and I'm walking to my parked car through the city, struggling on high-heeled shoes over uneven bricks when I see this lady across the street grabbing at this jumpy little dog who's bumbling away from her.
He's shaking and buries his head. I stand up and hold him up toward the lady, "Hey is this your dog?" I ask her.
She waves her head no, puts her hands out in a shrug, then does an about-face and walks away.
I quickly recall the "Finders Keepers" law from childhood and wonder if that's an actual thing that adults can use.
Nobody around me seemed to be looking for a cute little dog.
Nobody around me seemed to be looking for a cute little dog.
"What are you doing playing in the street like that?" I ask him and he licks me.
That's when I see the fleas crawling over his nose. Then I noticed how grimy his fur is -- stuck with burrs and leaf bits and little bald spots on the bum from oozing flea bites. He tried to squirm out of my grasp and I held tight checking the faded collar for ID tags but there were none. I pick up his lips to look at his teeth-- they're not baby puppy teeth, and there's a thin layer of tartar so I figure he's older than 1 year but not too old.
That's when I see the fleas crawling over his nose. Then I noticed how grimy his fur is -- stuck with burrs and leaf bits and little bald spots on the bum from oozing flea bites. He tried to squirm out of my grasp and I held tight checking the faded collar for ID tags but there were none. I pick up his lips to look at his teeth-- they're not baby puppy teeth, and there's a thin layer of tartar so I figure he's older than 1 year but not too old.
Well I'm not just going to let him go roving the streets, I resolved. He struggled to get down and I told him to knock it off. He listened.
I called my boyfriend who had just hopped on his bike a few moments ago to go to work.
"I found a dog on the corner of 18th and Christian," I told him, "I need help bringing him home, because I have all my bags and I can't let him go."
"Whaaaaat?!" I can tell he's annoyed because he will be late for work.
He rolls up on his bike and pets the dog. I tell him what happened -- pointing out that I saved him and that I was just being a good citizen by rescuing this lost little doggie.
"If I let him go he's just going to get hit by a car! He'll never survive out here all alone in the city," I explain.
"Also the fleas are getting all over me. I have to get him out of my arms."
He agrees and helps me get my things back home and I tell him that I'll call the pound, figure out what they do with found dogs and that I'll leave the doggie locked up in the bathroom where he can't eat our couch.
I called my boyfriend who had just hopped on his bike a few moments ago to go to work.
"Whaaaaat?!" I can tell he's annoyed because he will be late for work.
He rolls up on his bike and pets the dog. I tell him what happened -- pointing out that I saved him and that I was just being a good citizen by rescuing this lost little doggie.
"If I let him go he's just going to get hit by a car! He'll never survive out here all alone in the city," I explain.
"Also the fleas are getting all over me. I have to get him out of my arms."
He agrees and helps me get my things back home and I tell him that I'll call the pound, figure out what they do with found dogs and that I'll leave the doggie locked up in the bathroom where he can't eat our couch.
So I stopped by the Walgreens, picked up a leash and some bagged dog food. I let little doggie explore the house for a bit, then fed and watered him then left him alone in the bathroom so I could go to work.
I didn't want him to feel lonely so I gave him a teddy bear to keep him company.
The ACCT handles lost-and-found pets for the city. I called to tell them that I found a lost little dog. They took a description of him and checked it against the missing reports. No matches. YAY! I pushed the thought away.
She told me to post a found report on their Facebook page and to be on the lookout for "Missing Dog" flyers and to check the Craigslist lost and found section.
"Do I have to bring him in to you?" I asked her-- dreading the thought of this little doggie in an overcrowded city pound with loud noises and pee smell.
"Can you care for the dog?" she asked me.
I said of course I can I think he's awesome and I want to keep him. She told me that they'll keep the found report on file and that I could take care of him until the owners came forward.
"What happens if they don't ever come forward?" I asked.
"Well then you can either bring the dog in-- there's no charge for bringing in a found dog and we'll adopt him out-- or you can choose to keep him," she told me.
I come home that night and the bathroom where the dog was kept is spic and span clean. No poop or pee and I've been gone for 8 hours.
This dog is awesome! I thought.
That night, we took him to the local vet so they could check him for a microchip. There isn't one but the lady gives us a flea pill because he's infested and I already have flea bites.
We get home and I'm fussing over the dog.
"This isn't going to be our dog is it?" Boyfriend asks. We'd been talking about adopting a dog but we wanted a Frisbee catching border collie or some other cool, medium-sized dog.
"Of course not," I snap. "We're just keeping him here until the pound finds his owners. He's a good little dog-- someone is missing him."
We go to bed and little doggie hops up and sleeps on our feet.
I call the pound the next two days and still no word of any owner.
I take the dog for a walk and it's immediately apparent that he LOVES well-dressed ladies. I know, who doesn't. But he goes right up to them and jumps up and hop-dances while they fuss over him as I stand there awkwardly dangling at the back of the leash. Then I offer up non-answers as they ask me questions about him I can't answer, like what kind of dog is he? How old is he? What's his name?
I schedule a vet appointment for the dog because I don't know anything about him and I want to make sure he's healthy.
I started regularly calling out random names alphabetically to see if he responded to any.
"Is your name Albert! Ben? Charlie! Dizzy! Egg-bert! Frank? It's Frank isn't it," I ask the dog as he tries hard to ignore me.
He perked up when we got to the P's and I said "Poop!" but I think it was just a coincidence. All dogs love poop.
On Saturday we name him Speck. After Pee Wee Herman's dog.
At our vet appointment, the vet tells us he's in good health, he's about 1.5 years old and he's some kind of terrier mix -- a lot of Yorkie. We told the vet how we found him.
"I wouldn't be surprised if nobody claims him," the vet told us. "That happens a lot. People make up reasons why they can't keep their pets, or they just let them go."
He told us that if we decided to keep him, we should bring him back for some vaccines, do a heartworm and Lymes Disease test and deworm him.
A few weeks later we got him vaccinated.
We learned funny things about Speck, like the fact that he hides the bones we give him in pillows and in couch crevices. And that he's got this complete bone inventory in his head and he knows where they all are so if you sit on one of them by accident he's all up in your business anxiously trying to dig it back out.
I called the pound again to make sure they still had my report.
"What would happen if-- a month from now, after I've neutered and vaccinated him -- his owners come forward and want him back?"
"At the shelter, we adopt strays out after 48 hours if they're not registered, microchipped and if nobody comes forward," she told me. "It happens a lot where the owners come forward after we've adopted a dog out-- and it's just too bad. I suggest keeping your receipts. If no owners come forward within a reasonable amount of time and you've spent money on fixing and taking care of the dog and establishing ownership, he's your dog."
We're taking Speck for walks three times a day and it's amazing how many people stop to talk to you when you're walking a friendly little dog. We start to meet the neighbors-- start to recognize the same dogs and their owners. Ladies stop to fuss over him (and he reciprocates), strangers try to talk to him, guys call him cute and kids come up to pet him.
A month after finding him we got him microchipped. Then neutered. He wore the cone of shame and it made his whines echo all over the house as he crashed and bumped into things. We felt bad laughing because he was genuinely miserable and the cone bewildered him so he only wore it for the first night.
We taught him how to sit, jump up and he follows me everywhere and keeps me company on work-from-home days.
So that's how we unintentionally became the owners of a little dog named Speck. Although had I known that we were going to keep him-- I probably would have named him something cooler.
I didn't want him to feel lonely so I gave him a teddy bear to keep him company.
The ACCT handles lost-and-found pets for the city. I called to tell them that I found a lost little dog. They took a description of him and checked it against the missing reports. No matches. YAY! I pushed the thought away.
She told me to post a found report on their Facebook page and to be on the lookout for "Missing Dog" flyers and to check the Craigslist lost and found section.
"Do I have to bring him in to you?" I asked her-- dreading the thought of this little doggie in an overcrowded city pound with loud noises and pee smell.
"Can you care for the dog?" she asked me.
I said of course I can I think he's awesome and I want to keep him. She told me that they'll keep the found report on file and that I could take care of him until the owners came forward.
"What happens if they don't ever come forward?" I asked.
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| From Pee-Wee Herman's Big Adventure [Youtube.com] |
I come home that night and the bathroom where the dog was kept is spic and span clean. No poop or pee and I've been gone for 8 hours.
This dog is awesome! I thought.
That night, we took him to the local vet so they could check him for a microchip. There isn't one but the lady gives us a flea pill because he's infested and I already have flea bites.
We get home and I'm fussing over the dog.
"This isn't going to be our dog is it?" Boyfriend asks. We'd been talking about adopting a dog but we wanted a Frisbee catching border collie or some other cool, medium-sized dog.
"Of course not," I snap. "We're just keeping him here until the pound finds his owners. He's a good little dog-- someone is missing him."
We go to bed and little doggie hops up and sleeps on our feet.
***
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| He doesn't fit in my purse but don't think I didn't try! |
I take the dog for a walk and it's immediately apparent that he LOVES well-dressed ladies. I know, who doesn't. But he goes right up to them and jumps up and hop-dances while they fuss over him as I stand there awkwardly dangling at the back of the leash. Then I offer up non-answers as they ask me questions about him I can't answer, like what kind of dog is he? How old is he? What's his name?
I schedule a vet appointment for the dog because I don't know anything about him and I want to make sure he's healthy.
I started regularly calling out random names alphabetically to see if he responded to any.
"Is your name Albert! Ben? Charlie! Dizzy! Egg-bert! Frank? It's Frank isn't it," I ask the dog as he tries hard to ignore me.
He perked up when we got to the P's and I said "Poop!" but I think it was just a coincidence. All dogs love poop.
On Saturday we name him Speck. After Pee Wee Herman's dog.
At our vet appointment, the vet tells us he's in good health, he's about 1.5 years old and he's some kind of terrier mix -- a lot of Yorkie. We told the vet how we found him.
"I wouldn't be surprised if nobody claims him," the vet told us. "That happens a lot. People make up reasons why they can't keep their pets, or they just let them go."
He told us that if we decided to keep him, we should bring him back for some vaccines, do a heartworm and Lymes Disease test and deworm him.
A few weeks later we got him vaccinated.
We learned funny things about Speck, like the fact that he hides the bones we give him in pillows and in couch crevices. And that he's got this complete bone inventory in his head and he knows where they all are so if you sit on one of them by accident he's all up in your business anxiously trying to dig it back out.
I called the pound again to make sure they still had my report.
"At the shelter, we adopt strays out after 48 hours if they're not registered, microchipped and if nobody comes forward," she told me. "It happens a lot where the owners come forward after we've adopted a dog out-- and it's just too bad. I suggest keeping your receipts. If no owners come forward within a reasonable amount of time and you've spent money on fixing and taking care of the dog and establishing ownership, he's your dog."
We're taking Speck for walks three times a day and it's amazing how many people stop to talk to you when you're walking a friendly little dog. We start to meet the neighbors-- start to recognize the same dogs and their owners. Ladies stop to fuss over him (and he reciprocates), strangers try to talk to him, guys call him cute and kids come up to pet him.
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| One of them needs a haircut... |
We taught him how to sit, jump up and he follows me everywhere and keeps me company on work-from-home days.
So that's how we unintentionally became the owners of a little dog named Speck. Although had I known that we were going to keep him-- I probably would have named him something cooler.