An Unexpected Visitor

This morning started out like any other. I woke up at 7:00, hit the snooze button until 7:30, rushed to get the six-year-old dressed and fed and ready for his last day of school. I don't normally accompany him to the bus stop, I usually watch from behind the window or, at the most, our front deck. This morning, though, I wanted to wish the other moms a happy summer, so I headed down to the stop.

As the kids were boarding the bus, we noticed that there was a little white fluffiness prowling the nieghbourhood lawns. "Oh, he was there yesterday, too," said mom #2. "You won't be able to catch himi. The kids tried yeserday, but he just ran away."

It was a miniature poodle. Cream coloured. Clearly a male, judging from the way he was lifting his leg so high he was almost falling over. So, once the kids were safely on their way and the bus had rounded the corner, I tried my hand at capturing the elusive little critter.

In my happiest voice (strictly reserved for dog training and two-year-old rangling), I called out, "Here, puppy, puppy!" He came. Imagine that?

Yup, he's a boy, alright. A male, intact (that means his little package was present and accounted for), purebred miniature poodle, just wandering the streets alone. He was also filthy and soaking wet, presumably from being out in the torrential downpour that lasted the better part of yesterday and last night and included marble-sized bits of hail. No collar, no tattoos, nothing to hint at where he came from. I scooped him up amidst a flurry of licking tongues and wagging stub-tails and carried him home.

After drying him off and introducing him to a less than thrilled Wile E (who, I'm pretty sure, though he was a rabid squirrel, judging by the way she kept carefully out of his reach), I started making calls. The first was to the closest vet. No one had reported a lost dog, but I could bring him in to check for a microchip. So I put one of Wile E's old leashes around his little neck (remember, no collar, so I had to make do) and carried him into the car. We got to the vet's office where they checked for a microchip. Nope, no microchip either, although they did determine that he's between one and two years old.

Here's a little piece of advice for all of you dog owners out there. If you have a dog, get it microchipped. The cost varies, but mine was $40, one-time deal. They put a little chip, the size of a grain of rice, just under the dog's skin between the shoulder blades. The chip contains a number which is linked to the same number in a huge database. This number is connected to your contact information. Your information is kept in the database forever. If your dog somehow manages to get lost without its collar, this is the best way to make sure he/she gets back home to you, safe and sound.

Anyhoo, once we got home, I continued with my phone calls. I called every local vet and left my name and phone number along with a description of the dog. I called our local SPCA and did the same. I then called our town's animal control officer. Well, let's just say he's given me a topic for another blog on another day. Everywhere I called, no one had any reports of a missing poodle.

Now, I don't know about you, but if my dog were missing for two days, I think I'd be trying very hard to find him, wouldn't you? I'd be calling everywhere I could think of, putting up posters, knocking on doors. Mind you, my dog is tagged and microchipped, so anyone who found her would be able to find me very quickly. Not to mention the fact that she's a bit of a cling-on, so even if she did get out of our yard, she wouldn't go very far without me by her side (and I know this for a fact because she does get out on occasion, only to be found right behind our front door, waiting to be let back in).

So I started making plans. In the event that he isn't claimed by the week-end, I certainly can't keep him (Wile E is liking him less and less as the moments progress), so we'll have to find him a proper home. First things first, though, he's getting neutered! The last thing we need is another baby-maker running loose in the streets! My sister-in-law has been tossing around the idea of getting a pet lately, so maybe this is fate intervening on her behalf.

He was being quite the nosey little parker, so I stated calling him "Parker" in the interim. I kept him blocked off in my kitchen, to allow Wile E a chance to escape whenever she felt the need. Wile E can clear a baby gate without working up a sweat. Parker, while he clearly can attain the height needed, hasn't figured out how to propel himself forward, so he just bounced up and down on the other side of the gate.

Later in the morning, I thought we could all go outside for a little air. I put Parker on a leash, put Wile E's leash on (although she can go out without her leash, there's no fear of her running off, but I still put it on her just because it's the law) and put Trouble's hat on. As we stood there watching Daddy work on Mommy's motorcycle, I notice an elderly gentleman walking up the next block, checking in all the ditches and in people's yards.

Uh, oh. I think I've found the wayward owner. I battled with a little voice inside my head that wanted me to hide the dog in my house, and which was very close to winning for a moment.

"Are you looking for a dog, by any chance?" I call out to him.

"As a matter of fact, I am. A little one."

"This one?" and I pull Parker out from behind my car.

He smiles and comes over. "Yup, that's the one!"

The dog's real name is apparently 'Tic-Tac' (no wonder he ran away!). He belongs to the old man's daughter. Tic-Tac has the bad habit of sneaking out of his owner's yard through a tiny hole in their fence. "She really should do something about that hole," he said. Yeah, no kidding. "She said he usually comes back, but he was gone too long this time, so I came looking for him." There's that voice in my head saying, "I told ya so!" as I try not to think of how many females he could have impregnated in two days. I offer up the advice that she have him microchipped, just in case he escapes again. I told him it would cost approximately $40 at the nearby vet, and it's really the surest way to identify the dog if he were to ever get lost again. Seeing as how this wasn't his dog, I refrained from preaching about the benefits of neutering the dog as well. The old man thanks me, tucks Tic-Tac under his arm and heads on home.

About fifteen minutes later, I see an older man and a younger woman walking down my street together. As they get closer, I realize it's the same man who had just picked up Tic-Tac. The woman must be his daughter. I figured she wanted to know who had found her dog. They nod politely and walk on by. What?! Not that I performed any great feats of heroics or anything, but surely I deserved a word of thanks for potentially saving her dog from being hit by a car or eaten by coyotes (yes, they've been calling to each other in the back fields again) or, worse yet, picked up by a puppy miller who would put him to a lifetime of caged slavery pumping out some rediculous oodle-mix puppies?? Nothing. I got a nod and the backs of their heads. Nice.

Technorati Tags: Lost ; Dog ; Microchip ; Spay ; Neuter ; Overpopulation