This DOG!!

On Election Day, in the evening, I decided to take a walk in order to get my mind off big, stressful thoughts (like who's gonna be president for the next four years?). I was on a familiar route, not too far from home when I found a little dog that was sniffing some cardboard that had been left out on the curb.

I asked the dog if we were in its own yard, but it just ran up to me and put its paws on my leg. Then it put its little face between its paws. I rang the doorbell of the nearest house, but no one answered. I hung around for a while and asked everyone who went by if they recognized the dog or knew of anyone who was missing a dog. I tried to get on with my walk, but the dog just followed me around until it was cold and dark, and traffic was heavy, and I finally just had to pick her up and take her home with me. 

When I lived with my parents, I would get lost dogs back to their families pretty often and fairly easily because I knew most of the dogs in their area. But I've only lived in this neighborhood a year, and plus, it seems like people here don't walk their dogs as much or have a lot of windows in their fences where the dogs can look out and see--and be seen by--passersby. And there are a LOT more houses in between the major roads here than in my parents' smaller neighborhood. 

The last time I found a dog in this new neighborhood (a French bulldog puppy), she followed me home, and, after I made some "Found Dog"signs, I tied the belt from my bathrobe around her neck and took her back out into the neighborhood. That was a Saturday, so lots of people were around, and through some excellent detective work, I found the dog's home, and the owner was happy to see her.

But this time around, most people are too busy to help. Other people will stand around and chat with me, but they don't know where the dog belongs either. I put some info online at Fido Finder, and registered her as "found" at the local animal shelter, but no one has called. I put a sign up near where I found the dog, and one at a popular veterinary office. Normally I would be happy to have a dog around, but I want to get this particular dog back to her real family ASAP because she thinks I am her mommy, and she won't give me a minute's peace.

You might look at the picture above and think I picked up the dog and put her on my lap just to take this cute picture, but nothing could be further from the truth. Whenever I try to leave her alone, she whines and barks and throws herself at the door, and whenever I sit in her presence, she jumps up onto my lap. (This has made my last several trips to the bathroom very awkward in one way or another.) Yesterday, I wore a relatively nice outfit because I hoped I would be meeting her family, and I wanted them to know their dog had been cared for by a conscientious individual. But the dog is smelly, and now my nice outfit is smelly, so today I put on old, paint-stained jeans and an old, paint-stained t-shirt instead.

The night I found her I gave her a fried egg (which she loved--I had to chop it into dime-sized pieces because her mouth is so little). She had the same for breakfast and dinner yesterday, but my mom, who isn't a vegetarian like me, bought her a hamburger at McDonald's for lunch (I took it out of the bun and scraped off all the onions because too much bread is bad for dogs, and onions can make them sick). This morning, I went to Petco and got her four little tubs of fancy food for fancy dogs, mostly to make it easier to feed her. 

I felt really sad when I was shopping for dog food, and I realized it was because the last time I really took care of a dog, I was taking care of my own dog who died a few years ago. My dog was patience and devotion personified (or dogified, I guess). The closest she ever came to jumping up on people was if you were eating some really delicious-smelling meat, she might slink up and rest her chin in your lap and look up at you with the biggest, saddest brown eyes you've ever seen. When I was on the dog treats aisle, I saw some of her old favorites and got super-upset that I couldn't buy some for her. (In fact, I think we still have some leftovers at my parents' house all these years later.) Below is a picture of me and my dog when she was very, very old--almost fourteen, which is about four years older than German Shepherds are usually expected to live.

I ended up getting this little stray dog the tiny trays of fancy food with the peel-off foil lids because I didn't want to buy a whole bag of anything. Also, I'll admit, I was super curious what Nutro Ultra Holistic Superfood Small Breed Adult Chicken, Lamb & Salmon Pate´ Entrees look and smell like. That is seriously what they are called--look it up. No, I'll show you:

And if you're curious like I was: it smells like dog food, and it looks like dog food with tiny flakes of vegetables in it. Another thing that made me sad at the pet store was when I saw the bird section and thought, "Oh, I can get Baby-Chicken some new toys and treats!" But Baby-Chicken, my runty little budgie, died in the spring. A few months ago, I was helping my mom move some furniture near where we used to keep his cage (he lived with my parents while I was at my apartment) and I found a toy I'd bought him just before I noticed he was sick. It was still in its packaging... I'd been so distracted by his illness that I'd forgotten to give it to him. So needless to say, going to the pet store did NOT put me in a good mood.

The dog loved the food though, so that was something. But then she just wanted to sit in my lap again. I decided I would resign myself to it and found a podcast to listen to. We got set up on the back porch with my computer on one arm of the Adirondack chair and my cellphone on the other in case anyone called about the dog (still no calls as of 48 hours after posting her info online). Then the dog deposited herself in my lap for the next couple of hours as I had expected her to.

In the photo below, I was trying to show my displeasure at having a 212-degree-Fahrenheit dog in my lap in 77-degree-Fahrenheit weather, but at the very moment the camera went off, @mrdavehill made a funny rejoinder to Dick Cavett (The Dave Hill Podcasting Incident, episode 52) and I ended up finding out what I look like when I'm laughing, which, at present, I have somewhat mixed feelings about. 

Right now, the dog is in my bathroom where she has a nice soft little rug to sleep on, although she just now seems to have settled down (after at least half an hour of bumping against the door and making periodic whining noises). My mother drove us around earlier to various veterinary offices to see if she's microchipped or if they have any flyers up about her... so far nothing. My mom wants to keep her, but she can't (because of my dad), so I think she might want me to keep her FOR her. And right now, once again, bump-bump-bump goes this crazy dog against the bathroom door.