I met another great dog today.

When we first saw him, he looked like a wandering stray. We have fast roads here, with full-charging 18-wheelers, and the road's hilly curves are too dangerous for them to jam on the brakes, be it cow, bear, dog, duck, rooster, or man in the road. We've lost a few ourselves.

So it has been my policy for the last several years that when I see a dog on the road that is clearly an abandoned, roaming dog-- and yes I know the difference-- I pull over when I can, and catch them kindly if they will come to me, and take them to my firend who runs the local ASPCA shelter. Many of these dogs, even shy ones, do come to me.... I figure it's a gift I should use, since I have it, you know?

My friend has a great record of placing hard-to-place adult dogs, and an uncanny sense of who is the right person for which dogs-- they have the best chance of living, and getting a home, with him, so I take them off the street. Everyone in these parts knows to call Andy and check with him, if they're missing a dog.

Sometimes, if the dog has current tags and can get along with other dogs, I bring them to our house for a couple of days and report them to the ASPCA as well as the county dog warden, with their full support. We have a roomy outdoor pen with shelters which is extremely visible on our busy road; owners passing by looking for their dogs can see their dogs there and have been glad to knock on the door and claim their dog back. I love the stories they tell me of their escapte-artist mutt, and we always have a good visit. Sometimes these dogs have gotten vet visits too, before I take them to Andy, to save the ASPCA the cost of the checkup. (Especially if it seems to be an abused dog.)

Anyhoo! I was afraid I was seeing another one today, at Arby's, and thinking he'd be one to take home for a few days to feed up. After we got our order we went out back to check to see if he was still wandering, or was as I had hoped, merely a dog in rough shape getting a bit of exercise on his own while the owner lunched in his vehicle. I didn't see him at all, and thought he'd gone across the open grassy area to a safe, truck-free zone. So we shrugged and started our lunch in the sunny van.

All of a sudden the dog came along, this time with an owner in tow! Not leashed, but WITH, walking along. Seeing the dog up close I could see how old and grizzled he was. A northern dog-- a sled-dog mix, but very whited-out in the places where old dogs show their age. But shiny coat? In the sun-- first we've had for weeks-- he positively glowed. GREAT condition, just old. I called out to the similarly-battlescarred owner how much we liked his dog and how glad I was to see he was not a stray. He came over and I described how I take strays off the roads when I can.

He told me he had adopted this old dog many years before from a pound in Alaska, that he had indeed been a sled dog who he had rehabilitated as a house dog, and how they went everywhere together. What a sweet man.... I asked if I could give the dog a bite of ham. "Sure, if he'll let you give it to him," he replied. I offered a bit of ham, the dog sniffed and declined politely. I offered it again, asking him if he wanted a treat. Wag, wag, wag, yes! As a treat, he was willing to take it. He got a second bite the same way, happily. "His sandwich is in the car," said his man, "and he'll get his, tonight, at dinner time. He usually won't eat for anybody but me."

I have no dounbt this man and this dog had exchanged MANY life lessons.

I was so glad to have met them both.

I wish I could meet Nanny Dizzy, too.


Love ya, Kat,


~Susan