- Mood:
- Music: 'How to Save a Life'
I may be crazy, but since the loss of our dogs, I've been seeing other dogs everywhere. Strays, beloved family pets, gaurd dogs, pampered pooches and muscular mutts. I didn't like seeing them so often, because it hurt so much thinking about mine. What made matters worse was that they all seemed to make a beeline for me. Mom said animals know when someone likes them. This hypothesis was proven not long ago; twice, in fact.
Last September, I was out pounding the pavement for work, as I had been for the past few months, and I came upon a small black and brown dog pacing aback and forth across the sidewalk. Since he stayed fairly close to a motorcycle and he had a collar, I figured he was waiting for someone. I returned later to go home, and he was still there. He was very agitated and whimpering a lot. I felt magnetized to him. I crouched down and began to talk to him. Then I noticed his dirty coat, his thinness, and the fly streaks on his ears. He was frightened and looking at everyone that walked by, only to come back with a downcast look. I felt sympathy and anger growing within me. I had seen this before, all too often...
Someone had dumped this poor animal! Despite his condition my common sense was nagging me that I could not do anything for him. I definately couldn't keep him. I had no money, and besides that Dad would hit the roof. I sat with him and managed to call him close enough so I could pet him. He wasn't tiny, but small enough he was still somewhere in the puppy stage. Aside from his ears he looked healthy. As the minutes ticked by no one gave him a second glance. I sighed after half an hour had passed. Whoever had left him obviously wasn't coming back, but I couldn't stay her forever. I decided to call Animal Control to come pick him up.
After I hung up I looked back at the dog. He was calmer now and trying to wag his tail. How could I do this again? If I saw another dog loaded into a truck, I'd be sick. Cowardly though I was, I started to walk home. Before long I realized the dog was following me, an eager expression on his face. I tried shooing him away, tears filling my eyes, but he wouldn't go. "Go!" I shouted at him. "I can't keep you!" I dissolved into heavy sobs and sat down hard on the curb. He came quite close and nudged my arm, trying to make me feel better. What could I do? I couldn't keep him, yet I simply could not let this sweet animal be taken away. I brushed away my tears and made up my mind to take him home, if only to give him some water and clean up his poor ears. There was nothing else I could do and live with.
I let him follow me. Close to the roads I led him by the collar or picked him up and carried him. Puppy though he was, he wieghed at least twenty pounds and my arm strength leaves much to be desired. I was exhausted by the time I got home and told Mom my predicament. We both knew what would happen if Dad came home and saw the dog. The poor thing wouldn't have a chance if Animal Control came along. I set down some water for him and then went crazy posting notices on every single message board I could and calling the friends I thought might want a dog. Thankfully, one of them said yes, he could take the dog, if only temporarily, and take care of him. I almost sank through the floor in relief and set to work cleaning up the puppy's ears. Dad had everything explained to him and by sunset, the dog was on his way to warmth, food, and companionship.
Jim (my friend) named the dog Lt. Ketch; after a characters in a Star Wars book. Eventually his landlord took the dog home to her mother. Ketch got his shots and got fixed. Today, he's living a comfortable life in Whittier, and still gets to see Jim once in a while. Though I didn't get to keep him, I'm glad that I was able to save a life. Maybe someday I can see Ketch again.
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Waiting for my fur-baby 
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