Another Doggone Adventure

Tuesday morning, I watched a dog get hit by a moron who was aiming for her. He over-corrected after hitting her and almost hit me. She got up and ran off, but her back left leg was mangled. She might weigh seven pounds -- she's about Pippin's size.

Tuesday night, on my way home, I saw her in the median and there was a lady trying to coax her with a Honey Bun. It wasn't working. Eventually, two police officers helped us stop traffic and shoo her to an isolated area of a gas station parking lot. The lady at the gas station said the dog had been around for about two weeks. She's skittish (the dog, not the lady) and was covered in scars and what looked like open slices/cuts. Those have healed, but, having picked dogs up regularly out of the middle of the road, she was not just I-got-hit skittish.

Through judicious and generous use of Fred's Canned Gourmet Dog Dinner and potted meat, I eventually got the dog within a yard of me. Then, I sat on the ground. I worked not to make eye contact -- that's pretty difficult with a dog that size :) -- and eventually laid down on the ground. She came up and laid against my back. At this point, it was time to call C so he wouldn't start to think I wasn't coming home. I got up, got my phone and went back to my spot. I sat down about a foot away from her. While I talked (and gestured) to C, she sniffed my feet.

After a lot of this, she let me pet her. I had her little head in my hands, but if I applied too much pressure or moved above her ears or down her neck -- to grab her -- she'd bolt and I'd have to start with a yard between us again. Wow, can she move with one mangled leg. So, some drunk lady came up. She was huge and loud and chased the dog away. The gas station attendant started a fist fight with her because, it turns out, I'm the only person who has been able to get that close to the dog. The two cops who responded to the fist fight -- and the junior rangers -- all said they'd keep an eye out for her.

Wednesday, she was MIA, but Thursday, on my way home, the gas station called me and said she was hanging around. So, I stopped. And drugged her with children's cold medicine. It didn't work all that well -- she got loopy and tired, but wanted to go back into hiding in the woods. After about an hour and a half, I gave up and headed back to my car -- only to turn around and see her running, full-tilt, right at me with her tail wagging. I still failed to catch her, but, well, we had bonded on some level.

Friday night was my last night for an attempt. I promised C -- and myself -- that I was done. So, I took out the big guns. Sleeping pills. She wouldn't touch anything with a pill in it. I finally got her to take a pill with a canned hot dog. *ewwwww* Unfortunately, it did nothing to make her tired. While I was hanging out watching her, a young lady stopped by and told me she worked for a vet. Her big suggestion was to use pill pockets -- which we've been using for Rose and which I took along just to try them. The little dog was having none of it. So, the young lady said she'd call her boss. I protested.

About an hour later, a guy with his family stopped by. We talked about the challenges of this dog -- if she was spayed, the mangled back leg, the socialization issues -- and I told him that my personal plan was to take the dog to my vet, Dr. D, but a young lady who worked for Dr. K had stopped by and said she'd talk to him Tuesday. His response was, "I'm Dr. K. I'll bring a humane trap down and try to catch her. Give Dr. D my best -- we have similar vet philosophies."

So, for the time being, I've washed my hands of it. Because of her size and the fact that she didn't once growl or snap at me, I think with some work she'd be highly adoptable. This story might continue...