The Dog Lost and Found

OK.  So one of the things that happened last month is that one of our dogs, Abbie, got out of the fence.  Usually when this happens there is a routine.  Step one, a spurt of running around by the dog who is all but chanting “nanny nanny booboo.”   Step two, a fly by of whichever one of us standing in the front yard.  Step three, said dog plops herself down in front of us because she is so excited that the only thing that will make it better is a belly scritch.  That is usually the point at which, of course, she is taken back to the fenced portion of the yard.  This is the usual pattern.  This is not what happened this time.

Sometime around Bean’s bath time she pushed her way through a weak spot in a gate.  We didn’t realize that she was gone until went to bring in the dogs back in. It was beginning to rain so JD grabbed an umbrella and walked around the block calling her.  Then the Deluge began and he came back.  Before bed he drove around a larger section of our neighborhood hoping to spot her, but couldn’t see anything in the downpour.  And so we went to bed with a firm plan in place about the next day, hoping she wouldn’t become an ex-dog overnight.

We get up, hoping that she has come back.  Nope.  In the meantime her sister is freaking out, which is really what made me anxious.  I wondered if she knew something i didn’t.  So when I get to work I call all the local vets near the house, and all the county shelters in the metro area and leave my name and number.

Let me also say that this was the week at work where everyone at work was either sick or on vacation.  There were, I’m not kidding, 2/3rds of my department missing.  So when, sometime mid morning, I got a call from the shelter nearest to my house saying “we think we have your dog, can you come get her so we don’t have to process her and save yourself 40 dollars” all I could say was, “yup that’s my dog” and “no I can’t leave yet.”

I was finally able to get free mid afternoon.  But, before I could get the dog I had to first go to the vet to get proof of rabies vaccination (her tags had been lost sometime during the night), go to the ATM to get some cash, and then go to city hall and pay my leash law fine.  Only once the had all receipts in hand could I go get my errant dog.

The funniest part of this entire adventure is how she ended up at the shelter.  I asked if there was report that said where she had been found.  I was curious about how far she had gotten.  The person at that shelter said “sure, let me see, it was [insert name of my street here].”  I just laughed at that.  My street is barely a block long so it is entirely feasible that my errant dog was less errant than I thought.  In fact, I would not be surprised at all if she was sitting in our front yard when a nice, well meaning couple with a baby walked by and noticed a random dog with a collar but no tags.  And my dog, being a friendly sort, was like “Hey people!  You got treats?”,  leaving her own yard to go with them.

Lessons learned?  We now have a new gate and collars with identification riveted on them are on order.

Advertisements

A Tale Of Broken Tails

I noticed on Monday that one of our two dogs would not raise her tail. Efforts to wag were pitiful. She would sit to the side to avoid bending it. It was odd. But not alarming. Yet.

This morning JD tried to raise her tail to make sure that there wasn’t a sore or something at the base. After all, one of her favorite games is to play chase with her sister and catch the other’s tail. It is entirely possible that someone got too rough.

Good news, no sore. Bad news, lots of screaming from the dog.

I am now sitting at vets.

20110907-103321.jpg