I usually stay upstairs in my office and work when contractors are here during the day (when they're not here I lay around on the couch and eat bon-bon's --ha ha! Kidding, honey!). So I'm upstairs this morning when I hear Tile Guy call my name:
"Dena? Do you know your neighbor's dogs?"
"What?" I ask. I tromp down the stairs and find Tile guy holding the world's cutest dog. Well, okay, maybe not the cutest, but very adorable nonetheless. Sort of a fuzzy white with a bit of a mohawk look on top. He had on a blue cloth collar and was hanging out in Tile Guy's arms as though he was born to be there. Just being rocked like a baby, head back, checking out the hallway.
"Who are you?" I cooed, coming closer. Mohawk Dog gave my nose several friendly licks.
"I saw him running around and called him over," said Tile Guy. "Do you know who he belongs to?"
I didn't, but I slipped on my shoes and Tile Guy handed me Mohawk Dog to take around to my neighbors to see if they knew who he belonged to. Mohawk Dog hung out in my arms and seemed very pleased to be carried about in such a glorified fashion.
My neighbor Margerite was home. "Oh, he belongs to that house one street up with the big fenced in yard," she told me. "He gets free a lot."
Fenced in yard, one street up. Check. I start walking. Mohawk dog is getting heavier. I'd guess he weighs maybe 15 pounds. I decided to chance putting him down, just becasue he was obviously such a good-tempered and trained dog. I figured he'd follow me.
And if you call walking a good 10 feet in front of me as following me, then yes, follow me he did. He moved out of the street when cars passed (thank God), and finally we got to the fenced in yard. Where--guess what!--a medium sized yellow dog already stood.
Yellow dog seemed anxious to see Mohawk Dog and gave several high leaps, trying to mount the fence. Luckily nothing came of that. I decided to knock on a few doors before putting Mohawk Dog in the yard with Yellow dog. I must have knocked on 5-6 doors, and got only 1 answer. A very nice elderly couple who informed my dog was in fact, "Ed's Dog--you know, Ed on Decauter? That's his dog. Just let him run free and he'll go home."
Okay great, thanks for the help. Moving on, now. I knocked on a few more doors--nothing. I walked back to fenced in yellow dog and looked doubtfully down at Mohawk Dog. "Are you guys friends?" I asked. I picked up Mohawk Dog and held him near the top of the fence. The two dogs nosed each other, which I took to be a good sign. HOWEVER, as I began to lower Mohawk Dog down the other side of the fence, he began wriggling and growling and nipped at my finger. Nipped in the nicest way--his teeth actually got one of my fingers and he didn't bite down (and he could have), but he applied pressure to let me know this was not how he wanted the situation to develop.
Images of me putting this poor dog in the wrong yard with the wrong dog flashed through my mind. What if Yellow dog ate Mohawk dog? Once he was in, he was in. I wouldn't be able to get at him. So I put Mohawk Dog back on the ground at my feet.
"Fine," I said. "You win. Come with me." My plan was to go back to Margerites and get a leash and maybe keep Mohawk Dog in my yard until later tonight when people would be home.
But Mohawk dog had had enough of me. He ran up and down the street and in and out of yards and came to me a few times, but eventually darted off on his on. All in all, I probably spent 40 minutes with this dog. And I have no idea if he made it home.
I suspect he does belong with Yellow Dog and will probably hang out in the area and find his way home. I just wish people would be more careful with their dogs. And that there was a way to match a dog with a home. Like maybe we can all keep pictures of our pets out on our front porch.
I think I'll do life-size blow-ups of my cats.