Monday, July 30, 2007

The Houseguest

She found us. My friends and family might not believe this, but she found us. We are not keeping her, we have no room for her, we will not name her (and I shall repeat that to myself as many times as is necessary). But I’m getting ahead of myself…

While helping his sister move Saturday morning, Jimmy noticed a puppy wandering towards him with no tags (purple collar, no tags). He took her to houses in the area, but no one recognized her. He took her to a vet, but she was not microchipped. Having to return to the business of moving, Jimmy left the puppy home with me. (Imagine my glee.)

Envisioning a child inconsolable over the loss of the family pet, I pushed my research paper aside to help these poor people who were surely hunting down their puppy. The Humane Society suggested I call animal control, who told me they would pick her up shortly. I hung up with a nagging feeling. I called again to ask what exactly they do with found dogs, and the answer was none too reassuring: “We wait 72 hours, then we do something with them.” After I asked if that “something” involved eternal sleep, the man sounded amused at my naivete: “We do it all the time, ma’am.” The pick-up request was promptly cancelled and I placed a found report instead.

Repulsed by animal control, I began a mission to track down the owners. I put an ad in the local paper and on Craigslist. Jimmy and I posted flyers around the neighborhood, and drove around looking for "LOST DOG" ones. We walked her, asking all dog-walking passers-by if they recognized the dog (we dog types tend to know our neighbors’ dogs’ names more than our neighbors’). No luck.

It’s been two days, and no one seems to be looking for her very hard. I imagine what I’d do if Murph or Scout went missing: the posters, the ads, the skywriting, the sandwich boards I'd wear on busy street corners while screaming their names and throwing Snausages. I often hail the difference of dog people versus the general population, and these owners aren’t helping me make my case.

As I type, the puppy’s sleeping across my feet. She’s a precious dog and deserves to be missed by whoever put that purple collar around her neck. Where are they?

“In the meantime” is a phrase that we use frequently to describe this little dog. In the meantime, we’ll give her Murph’s old crate. In the meantime, we’ll get supplies for her from PetSmart. In the meantime, we’ll call her Darcy.

Dammit.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I've found that there are three categories of "dog people" or "pet people". You are in the first (and only good) one consisting of kind-hearted, responsible caregivers. You understand the need for proper training, spaying/neutering, medical care, etc. The dogs you have adopted are family members, not property.

The second category contains generally nice but misguided people. These are the kind who would never kick a dog, but would also probably not bother to take the time for training or providing other essential care for their pet. They may buy for looks or breed without making sure the breeder is reputable. They coo over a cute puppy but forget that they must provide a lifetime of care once the puppy grows into its paws and ears. These people tend to think they can leave it to their children to raise puppies to be good housepets, see picking up dog waste as someone else's problem, and view letting their pet have a litter as natural and therefore essential. (Someone will take the puppies or kittens, right? Everyone loves puppies...thus continuing the cycle of mediocre owners and hardened animal control officers who are forced to euthanize the results. 450,000 cats and dogs euthanized in California alone last year! There's a well-written editorial on the subject in today's New York Times...I could go on and on.)

The third group is filled with evil people like those involved in dog-fighting, puppy mills and other such horrible situations. These are the people who would chain a dog up outside in the heat with no water or shelter. They would give up a senior dog to a shelter because they were tired of it and wanted a new puppy instead. They're the sort who see animals as merely a way to make a buck, not as creatures with individual personalities and the ability to feel suffering.

Anyway, the first group should be praised for having healthy, well-mannered, cheerful dogs who are a pleasure to visit. You should be commended for rescuing a little lost puppy. People like you provide hope for those of us working in the animal field.

The second group we can sometimes help join the first with education, good example and luck. It's a constant struggle to get them to listen, but when they do, it makes a huge difference in more than one life.

The third group we can only hope to punish with prison time, fines, and taking away their NFL spoil (what? oh, right, allegedly).

Incidently, all of my fostered pets had names. You are merely fostering Darcy until her real owners (or better ones) come along. Of course, one of my fostered kitties did get to stay in the best home...mine.

feminist chick said...

A happy ending! Darcy, who is officially Madison, is now home with her owners. A twenty-something couple, appropriately frantic, saw our flyer and called yesterday. When they arrived, the pup leapt into their arms, tail going nuts. Once they get the dog a microchip and a tag, the story gets a "happily ever after."