Now granted, there are no bad dogs. However, there are certainly large, boisterous, dominance-challenging dogs without a lick of training. Two of those, at 70+ pounds each, living in my car for two days, was pretty much my limit.
I want to write “it was with a heavy heart that I drove to the shelter this morning.” But that’s not true. I was desperate, and relieved. These two were WAY more dog than I was equipped to handle. I couldn’t get rid of them quickly enough, believe me.
I was standing there in the Humane Society lobby, actually filling out the intake papers on the dog, when one of the employees wandered past and asked, “Did you find that dog on the res? With a black dog?”
With the holiday backlog of voice mails, they had apparently just finished taking down the “lost dog” report. They called the owner, verified that they were home, then gave me the owner’s address and phone number. Turns out the dogs live about three miles from here, and took off during the general fireworks festivities.
Luckiest. Dogs. In the world.
The owner was so grateful that I had returned his dogs (not only because he loved them and missed them, but because he said he wouldn’t have been able to pay the shelter fees if their intake had been completed) that he gave me three pounds of salmon that the tribe had smoked for him. I felt a little bad about taking it, because I have the feeling that it was, you know, basically his groceries for the week – but there’s no way I could have refused his gift, under the circumstances. Plus, it is damned good smoked salmon.
At any rate, things are back to normal now (although my car’s upholstery may never be the same). And I am grateful all over again to be a cat owner. Nice, tidy, self-sufficient cats. I have never once had cause to wonder “Has the cat pooped yet today?” Nor have the cats ever gotten my pants muddy when they greeted me at the door. And so far, no aspect of cat ownership has required me to wake up first thing in the morning, get dressed, and stand outside in the darkness, getting soaked in a driving rain.
Don’t get me wrong – I love dogs. Love ’em to pieces. But seriously. I’m glad I have cats. And that my 100% success rate remains, to date, unbroken! (Man, it was close, though.)