Leaving my neighborhood on Sunday, I spotted a dog up ahead that appeared to be unattended. This was on one of the central arteries in our little community, busy, but not overly so. As I got closer and slowed the dog started wandering back and forth across the road. Judging by her slow, unsteady gait I ascertained that this was an old dog. I pulled over and got out.
She was a brown and white Springer spaniel with a pink collar. She was definitely old and more than a bit confused. She wouldn’t come to me and kept wandering back in the road while I played crossing guard to the occasional passing car. Soon enough one of those occasional cars rolled to a stop. The woman rolled her window down and asked if she could help. I quickly explained the situation as I knew it. She just so happened to have some liver treats with her. We used these to get a closer look at that pink collar. This had to be somebody’s dog.
No tag.
Another car stopped. This time it was my neighbor Melanie, One Eyed Jack’s owner.
“That looks like Lucy,” she says as she approaches. If it is Lucy her house is less than a nine iron away. I run up the street and find Lucy’s owner, Brittany, in the driveway. Yes, Lucy is in fact missing, she somehow got out, the kids are suspect.
Lucy is an old dog Brittany tells us as she takes the dog up in her arms. She’s fifteen and senile. She said it would be awful if the dog went out by being hit by a car. I immediately thought of Mr. Bones in the book Timbuktu.
As Brittany and Lucy headed back home I turned to Melanie. Her eyes were reddened. She still misses Jack… a lot.
This day however, she helped another old dog to live another day.
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