Stray Dog Saga, Part 2

So the stray dog from this eventful night has made a reappearance in my world.

A few days after that night, a friend emailed me to say there was a lost dog notice posted on Facebook, it looked like "my" dog I was waiting to bring home. Even though I didn't want to, I looked. Sure enough, it looked similar to the stray I'd found. Hoping against hope it wasn't the same one, I still contacted the owner and told her that I might have found her dog, and where it was.

But the dog was still at the shelter the next day when I went to check on her, and I was relieved that it wasn't the same lost dog. A few days later, after completing the required wait period for adoption, I picked up the wee ones from their schools and went to bring our new dog home with us. As we walked in to the shelter's reception lobby, the Animal Control officer at the reception desk looked up, his face long and sad.

"ADoC, I'm so sorry," he said, "but the owner showed up a half hour ago and she's taking the dog home with her."

The children's faces fell, their excited chatter quieted.

"What?" I stammered. It was unimaginable. I'd been into the shelter every day to play and sit with the dog, and we'd bonded. For her to not be coming home with me... well, I was devastated.

The officer motioned me over, and lowered his voice so the children couldn't hear. "It was the lost dog posted on Facebook, and the owner actually doesn't want the dog back, she and her husband had a huge argument about it. But the husband is still coming back to get the dog for his kids. Maybe you could talk to him and see if they'll give you the dog?"

I shook my head, collected the crying wee ones, and headed home. It was one thing if the dog was a stray, but she had a home and other children waiting for her. It is what it is, I said to myself, and life carried on.

Fast forward 6 weeks...

I took one of the boyfriend's children to the Animal Shelter yesterday to help her find a new pup. It was just to look and see what kind of dogs they had up for adoption, we weren't planning on actually getting a dog that day. They had bought a purebred pup before Christmas (for which I soundly took the boyfriend to task for supporting puppy mills and breeders instead of rescue centers) but the dog was dangerous around children and had to be given away. So dog-less again, his children had been begging for another one. Probably to save his ears from another lashing, he decided to let me find a puppy for them this time around, and that's how I found myself back at the animal shelter.

As I walked in, the officer's face broke into a huge grin.

"ADoC! Your dog is back! I'm so glad you're here, I couldn't find your number to call you!" he said excitedly.

Confused, I mentally checked that I'd locked the doors and all the gates at home. Certain my dogs were home safely napping in the afternoon sun, I figured he must have mistaken me for someone else.

"You brought her in one night, around Christmas," he said. "The owners didn't really want her back? She's here again! She's been here for over two weeks. I've been hoping you'd come back in."

Quickly, he opened the door to the kennels in the back and ushered us in. I completely forgot we were there to find a dog for someone else, so excited was I. Heart pounding, we made our way down the long row of dogs.

There, in the very last kennel, sat my dog. She'd been subjected to a very uneven shave, and was almost unrecognizable, except for her big brown eyes. Huddled in the corner, the only dog not barking at the sight of new people in their room, she looked up and saw me.

She came forward, pushing her nose against the bars separating us. She looked at me, I looked at her. And in that moment I knew...

I was taking the dog home with me this time.

She's 100lbs of a German Shepherd mix, 8 years old, and one huge bundle of love.

It was meant to be.