Found Dog

My husband went into town yesterday evening to pick up a few things.  He seemed to be gone forever, when he called to let me know he'd found a dog in the road and was looking for its owner.  No problem, I wasn't starting dinner until he got home anyway.

I was down in the basement where my sewing room is when I heard the unmistakable sound of clicking doggie toenails on the wood floor above me.  [Did he bring that dog home???????]  Yes, he did.

He had a rabies tag, but otherwise, no other form of identification.  Mike had gone to the houses all around, but nobody owned him or knew who owned him.  We called all the neighbors we knew, and we sent out an email via our neighborhood watch system.  Nothing.  We called the local animal shelter, but of course they were closed on Sunday.  We left a "found dog" message with his tag number, but it was clear that we were stuck with him overnight.

The cats were beside themselves, although the dog acted as if they were invisible to him.  They both were slinking along the floor as low as they could possibly be, ears laid back.  George was yowling and whining, and he was pretty perterbed when the dog promptly ate ALL of his food.  See, this is where cats and dogs differ.  A dog will eat cat food, but a cat would never eat dog food.  He also had the extreme bad taste to drink from their water!  I started calling him Herschel (as in, Hershey Bar, for his chocolate color) because I didn't like calling him "the dog." 

We got used to the idea that Hershel was ours for the night.  He was extremely well behaved, except at bedtime when we put him in the laundry room.  He was quiet at first, but then he started howling as if he had been banished from the face of the earth for the rest of eternity.  So, Mike got up and took him downstairs to the basement where we have a spare bedroom and slept with him down there.  George, Gracie and I stayed upstairs, and we all managed to sleep despite this dog in our midst.

George could not believe his eyes when he got up this morning and Hershel was STILL HERE!  He couldn't even go outside, as is his usual routine, because he had to keep an eye on Hershel to make sure he didn't start playing with his cat toys or something.  The utter gall of it.  When Mike left for work, he took some "Found Dog" posters we'd made, but then received a call from the animal shelter with the address and phone number of Hershel's mommy.  The phone number didn't work, but somehow he was able to track down the "Ex" of the owner.  He instructed Mike to put Hershel in her garage.  (Makes you wonder if there's a custody dispute brewing, doesn't it?)

So Mike came home and we wrote out a note to tape to the owner's door telling her that her dog (whose name is Teddy, it turns out) was in her garage.  Shortly thereafter, Mike received a call from her that they'd been reunited and EVERYONE was much happier.  Thank goodness.  Because now George and Gracie can get back to doing what they do best.