We Call Him the Dog Rescuer

Well, we’ve done it again. Out on a ride today, about nine miles from home, it is already hot, probably about 90 degrees by 9:00 am. This time it was me who saw the dog. Hiding in the bushes on the center divider. I called to Alan and we both turned around to check. Actually, there were two dogs. No collars (of course). The older, larger dog was male and apparently the father of the female puppy. Scared, thirsty, apparently abandoned.

This may seem like deja vu. As I’ve mentioned in this blog before, my husband, Alan, is a dog rescuer. Actually, the Animal Rescuer is more appropriate, since he also takes care of the neighborhood feral cats. You may also remember that we rescued not one, but two abandoned dogs last August. I’ve lost count of the times that Alan has found lost dogs wandering around the streets near our home and made sure that they were returned to their owners, sometimes with a stern lecture about tags or microchipping or some form of identification. We’ve had many dogs parked in our front yard while Alan made phone calls to local vets, animal shelters and animal control offices trying to track down doggy families. He’s made posters and hung them up around town. He’s walked or driven around the neighborhood on the lookout for missing owners.

Of course, I do my part too, which mostly involves not complaining when he brings home another dog. Neither of us could possibly leave a stray dog in a dangerous situation. So that brings us back to this morning’s adventure.

As Alan got off his bike to investigate, I was a little concerned because both dogs were obviously pit bull mixes. The male had some scarring on his side. I love all dogs, but I know what evil humans can do to a dog’s spirit. But I had no cause to worry this time. Both dogs were very scared, but very sweet. They let Alan touch them and pet them (homeless dogs always seem to sense something about him). We had no plain water, but they were happy to sip on some of Alan’s Cytomax. Now, though, we needed a plan to get these dogs (and us) out of the sun and safe.

Last year, Alan was the one to hurry home to get the car, the reasoning being that he was the faster rider and could get it done quicker. Good reasoning, but this year, I was the chosen one, since he had bonded with the dogs. I believe I stepped up to the plate today, averaging about 18 mph on the way home. Once there, I quickly changed my shorts (no matter what, I have to get out of my bike shorts right away), grabbed some water, a bowl, and two leashes, and headed out the door.

Once I got back, we had to carry the dogs to the car. They seemed scared and unused to being on a leash. In fact, I don’t think the puppy has ever been on a leash, she seems totally at a loss as to how to behave. We got Alan’s bike in the car, and headed home.

We will not be keeping these dogs. Our friends know we’re a little crazy, but even we know that we don’t have room for two more dogs. Alan has been working the neighbors, friends, facebook, on the lookout for a good home. On the off chance that the dogs really were lost and not abandoned, he will make some calls on Monday, tomorrow we will drive around the area in which we found the dogs in case signs are posted.

In the meantime, Brando and Peanut (yes, he’s named them) are happily ensconced in our shady front yard. It is hot out today, but we have a huge tree out front, and we can keep the grass wet which cools the area off nicely. Brando discovered the kittens couch:

Anyone looking for a smiling dog?