Heaven never helps the men who will not act.
- Sophocles, Greek Tragic Poet (B.C. 495-406)
I scoop the dog up, have a look at him, and find he’s got no collar, no identification. I bring him in and my wife instantly falls in love. They’re playing, they’re frolicking, they’re rolling around and it’s truly love at first sight. He’s a lovable little dog and the two dogs we already have seem to be having fun with him as well.
Immediately, I can tell my wife is already in mode of the little child asking “can we keep him?”, but I’ve got this little feeling gnawing at me and I’m thinking what if this is some little eight-year-old girl’s favorite little dog, and what if she’s totally heartbroken wondering where her little dog is?
The dog looks like he’s been recently groomed, so he’s not a street mutt, but he also looks like he’s been out for days, he’s pretty filthy, we check his paws, and they look raw and he yelps at the slightest touch of his paws, so he was probably sitting out in the middle of the street out of exhaustion and it looks like he might have come from many miles away.
Still, I keep thinking of that sad little girl with the lost dog and so while the wife is bathing him, I go out for a stroll with our own two dogs, I talk to a healthy sample of the neighbors walking their own dogs and a few of the neighbors in their cars as they pull up to their homes, and I describe this dog to them and while he’s not the most remarkable looking dog, no one knows of any of our neighbors who owns a dog that fits the description.
So we let him stay for a night, and I figure, tomorrow, against my wife’s wishes, I need to take him to the vet, see if he has one of those chips implanted in him that has his info and if not, maybe then I can have a clear conscience in leaving it up to the owners to see if they’re posting signs because I’m already getting a little attached to this dog and I’m thinking if the owners really want him, that should be up to them to put up the “lost dog” signs instead of it being left up to me to put up the “found dog” signs.
The next day rolls around and my wife, who runs a day care for special children, has her first client shows up to the door, and he can only walk with the help of a walker and while usually it’s her answering the door for her clients, for some reason I was the only one home at the time and like I normally do, I open the door with just one foot extended to keep our two dogs at bay and let them know they’re supposed to stay inside, but as I did this, our new found dog took the first opportunity and bolted straight out that door.
And I could already hear my wife accusing me of doing it on purpose because I knew how much she loved that dog! And sure enough, she did.
You know what, though? The way that dog bolted at the first crack of daylight, I was kind of over it. Your loss, pal.
So today, a month and a half later, guess who comes knocking at our door? That’s right, with his paws literally scratching at the front door, there he was, little Georgie (as we had named him that first time we met.) He had come straight to our freakin’ door.
Now that this is the second time Georgie has been loose to run the streets and possibly get hit by a car and his owners still haven’t gotten him a collar or a tag, so at this point, I’m of a mindset to say to hell with it, we’re claiming him as our own and we’re going to give him a better home, but I’d like to ask of you this poll question and offer it up as a question in a more general sense: