When I stepped outside to get the mail, she came running toward me.
(bounce, bounce, bounce)
My across the street neighbor was following behind, slightly out of breath. “You have a new puppy” I said. “No”, she replied, “I found her running on Harden and stopped to pick her up. When I opened the car door, she hopped right in. I put her in the yard with my dogs but she keeps getting out and I don’t know what to do with her.”
When I looked down at the little Boxer, she gazed back with soulful brown eyes. There were no tags, just a dirty pink color with hearts all around-somebody loves this dog. I didn’t have to think twice. “We will baby sit her until the owner is found”. When I took her inside, my own Boxer hauled herself up out of sleep mode (she is a good bit older). I put both dogs in the back yard and they quickly got to know each other. Then they instantly started running circles around the perimeter of the yard-the old dog keeping up with the young one. The little dog appeared very sweet natured and I knew the kids would be excited to see her.
I made sure all of the bedrooms were shut and nothing left out when I left for school pick up-I know about puppies. However, I forget about the trashcan. When I got home, it looked like she had a fine old time flinging trash all over the kitchen and hallways. I spoke sternly to her when I started cleaning up, and she instantly started cowering. Not good-could she have been abused? Surely not with that collar
When the children got home from school, the begging to keep her started immediately. After a discussion about how the owner felt, we finished homework, then took her for a walk to see if any signs had been posted. Once we got home and back inside, we noticed a certain “natural aroma” emanating from her fur. Back out to the front yard for a good scrubbing with flea shampoo. She trembled and shook the whole time-bath time isn’t fun yet. Out own dog watched mournfully from the front door, she loves playing in the hose.
We got tired of calling her puppy. Since we didn’t know her name, we discussed several fancy options. However, her floppy ears and gawky puppy look led us to the name Sadie-with no last name. It definitely fit.
My tenderhearted son was especially worried about her. He has had a new loft bed for about two weeks that he finds very exciting. However, he begged me to let Sadie sleep in his room, and although we fixed her a soft bed on a fleece blanket, she kept whining to get out where the people. Finally, my son dragged a sleeping bag down from the attic, and they curled up together in a pile. As I looked at the two of them in the dark, I hoped we would find her owner soon-this dog was way too sweet.
The next day, my husband rehung a door we had removed from the kitchen. We hoped that by closing her up in one room, we would eliminate future destruction. We both went to work, leaving her only a blanket and some water out. When I returned a few hours later, I opened the door to a disaster. Somehow she had gotten up on the counters and dumped over the coffee maker and a full sugar bowl, as well as ripped the phone line out of the plug. When she jumped down, she trotted around the spilled coffee and grounds, and proceeded to create a little artwork on the cabinets, walls and doors. It was very creative.
I was reminded why I don’t want any more puppies or babies. Still, I had to laugh at the look on my children’s faces. “This is what puppies do” I told them while we cleaned up.
Each night, we walked her around the neighborhood in case her owners were cruising. We also drove up and down the main streets looking for signs, and checked with the Boxer Rescue. She seemed happy enough with us, but I could only imagine how anxious her owners were; particularly since our own dog was recently lost. Plus, I knew that the longer she stayed with us, the harder (or less likely) it would be to give her up. I was already thinking that she would be easy to house break and that she would grow out of the chewing phase. She was very loving and a whole lot calmer than our Boxer had ever been-except when she was outside. There, she didn’t run, she boinged. Boing Boing Boing; all over the yard, stopping only to tease our dog who was too sedate for Sadie’s taste. It was great fun to watch.
On Thursday morning, I impulsively checked the Lost Dog ads in The State newspaper. There it was, a Boxer pup lost several blocks over from us. I called the number immediately and left a message. Ten minutes later, we heard back from someone sounding very anxious. She had lost her dog out of her yard a few days ago and her children were devastated. The puppy was a rescue dog(a ha!) and they had only had her for a week. She could identify her-the puppy had an awful pink collar. YES!
We took Sadie back on our way to school-it was well worth a tardy. It felt like Christmas to us, talking about how the children of that house were going to be so happy when they got home from school and saw their puppy returned; we can certainly relate. However, the house seems a little empty without her.