Yesterday, an adorable yet filthy dog was wandering around my street. I did what any concerned citizen would do: I threw rocks at it. A ha ha ha! I did not throw rocks at it. Actually I was running out the door (with the cat, who was so overdue for shots she was fashioning syringes for herself out of drinking straws), so I drove away, feeling guilty that I wasn't saving this adorable and incredibly disgusting dog, this dog who would probably be run over by a garbage truck and it would be all my fault.
I can be a little hard on myself.
Anyhoo (I say "anyhoo" now), got back from the vet, looked around for the dog, no dog. Maybe said dog had been returned to safety? I wanted to think so. So I did! Problem solved.
Many hours later, I was leaving to pick up Henry, and there was the dog. Sniffing bushes, doing what dogs do. My neighbor Jen was outside with her daughter, and Jen was eyeing the dog, no doubt wondering whom he would eat first. I joined them.
It turns out Jen had just murdered a snake (she claimed she had no choice, but I had my doubts) and she looked shaken up. She was still holding the shovel. And glaring at the dog. "STOP KILLING ANIMALS," I shouted. (No, no. The snake was a mercy killing. She's not like that. I think.) As the dog investigated the sidewalk, Jen's daughter declared, "I can see her nursies!" What do you know! It was a she! A mangy she!
I tried to walk away, but the dog! She followed me! And wagged her encrusted tail! She nosed my leg like she wanted me to pet her, but I can not overstate just how unclean she was. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't leave her, as I have a heart of gold. I walked back to my house. And she walked with me. I opened my back gate, and she trotted right in. And after picking up Henry, I called Animal Control. A lovely representative of said department showed up within minutes. He told me that the dog, after being cleaned up and taken care of, would be transferred to a shelter. "She's a sweetheart, and if you kill her I will hunt you down," I said. No I didn't. The dog tried to get me to pet her once before she hopped into the van. I patted her. She didn't feel as awful as she looked.
My neighbor said, "I have never seen Animal Control show up that quickly," and I said, "Maybe it's because I asked them nicely and didn't threaten them with a shovel."
That is my story. The End.