I very badly want a dog, and I recently wrote a post about my desire to kidnap yours. Yes, YOURS. You know Mr. Furry would love me more.
Unfortunately, my apartment doesn’t allow pets, so I’m having to come to terms with my doglessness for now. But it’s not easy.
After work this evening, I decided to go on a casual stroll through my neighborhood. There’s a wooded area with a little creek flowing through it, and it’s perfect for decompressing after a weird day.
I’d only been there a few minutes when I wandered upon this little gal:
I glanced around, but there were no people nearby, no one calling for a lost dog. I briefly wondered if this was a test – had the FBI read my post about kidnapping? Were they waiting in the bushes to see if I’d steal this one? Was this a decoy dog?
I decided not to snatch her up and make a run for my apartment, because I’m a selfless person. Also, I didn’t want to get arrested.
I knelt down to look at the cutie’s collar and noticed there was no name or address, just a phone number to the vet. Her fur was pretty filthy, and there were a few little stickers in it. I immediately named her “Scruffles.”
I wanted Scruffles for my very own. I pictured her living a happy life in my apartment, lying in a cashmere-lined dog bed and sharing my Tuna Tetrazzini with me.
I worked up the nerve to call the vet’s number, and gave her the tag number listed on Scruffles’ collar. There was no phone number listed in the file, but she was able to give me a home address.
Also, it turns out the dog’s name was actually Ginger. But she’ll always be “Scruffles” in my heart.
I scooped up Ginger-Scruffles and started walking, intent on getting back to my car so I could drive the pup home. But I was feeling very judgy of Ginger-Scruffles’ parents. Why did they not have a phone number listed on her tag or vet file? Why was the dog so dirty? How did she end up so far from home?
It was as though the owners wanted me to keep little Ginger-Scruffles.
This story has a pretty anti-climactic end. On my way out of the park, I noticed a man with another shih tzu, and I thought to ask whether the scruffly baby in my arms was perhaps his. And it was.
The guy seemed shockingly uncaring that his dog had been missing, and told me that Ginger-Scruffles “has arthritis and has trouble keeping up” with him and the other dog. I don’t want to seem like a know-it-all, but maybe try walking slowly so your elderly dog can keep up. Or, better yet, PUT HER ON A LEASH!
Sorry for shouting. Those few minutes of dog ownership probably went to my head.
I just want you all to know that I totally could have kidnapped this adorable animal, and I didn’t. I deserve a high-five AND a gold star. And maybe a cookie. Don’t you think?