Sunday, May 25, 2008

must be something in the water...

I think it's raining...dogs, that is.

Last night, the kids were outside playing in the yard, and this dog showed up. He looked like a pug/beagle mix, and of course they were all concerned about him. It's exactly what I used to do. "He followed me home. Can we keep him?"

We didn't know what to do with him. Was he lost? Was he starving? Should we keep him in our fenced-in area until we find his owner? Just let him be?

Common sense would have said to just let him go and he'd find his way back home. I don't think common sense was talking very loudly, because we put him in the fenced-in area. I called the sheriff to see if he had been reported missing. Nope. I looked on craigslist. Nada. I called the vet clinic on his rabies tag. Closed till Tuesday. Oh, yeah. It's a holiday weekend.

He was yipping and whining out there. We shut the window. Then it started to rain. My sympathy gene kicked into overdrive. "We have to let him in! It's thunderstorming out there."

So now the dog is in the kitchen, yipping with this shrill, ear-piercing bark because he is behind the gate and can't visit everyone. The cats are flying out of the kitchen in a state of panic, clearing the gate with room to spare. Bedlam breaks out in the bedroom because Augie Doggie has started barking. The baby starts crying. (We were watching some of the grandbabies...the almost-three year old, the almost-two year old, and the one-month old.)

I can't take it! The dog has to go out. As soon as it stops raining, that is. Augie kept barking, so I had the brilliant idea to let him out of the bedroom so he could sniff noses with this dog. This way, he could see who was in the house and quit barking at him.

Not. He made a beeline for the kitchen, barreled RIGHT THROUGH the childproof gate, and tore into the poor little puggle. He chased him around in circles in the kitchen, chomping him every time he caught up with him. Okay, not such a great plan, I would say. I had to step in and threaten him with the squirt bottle before he let up.

When we finally let the puggle back outside, he started circling the house, looking for a place to get back in. He whined on the front steps for a while, and then we heard him barking in the back of the house. Then we heard scratching on the side of the house under the window. All of a sudden, we saw him bouncing outside the open living room window, trying to leap high enough so he could climb in. The cats sat in the window with their hair standing on end, growling under their breaths.

He finally gave up. I think he slept on the side deck all night, because that's where he was in the morning. Gee named him Ricky, and she tried to talk me into keeping him for her. Ummm, no! She's going to the U in August, and who's going to end up taking care of him??? You got it! Me... No. No way. End. Of. Story.

I had to quit feeling sorry for him and put my big girl pants on to take him to the humane society. I updated my craigslist posting to tell whoever might be looking for him where he was. Whew! That was close. Too close for comfort. NO NEW PETS. It's my new mantra.

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