Wednesday, April 29, 2009

true love conquers the dog pound

About a month or two ago, a little hungry stray lab waltzed into our yard, tail wagging like the sun shined just for her. Our big, white Great Pyrenees (pronounced PIH-rih-knees) was ecstatic over the idea that a new girl (or a girl, at all), was on his block, and yeah, pretty soon they were husband and wife.

We toyed with some names for her - Cake? my suggestion. Buttercup? little sister's suggestion - until finally, after a week and a half, someone said "Daisy," and it fit just perfectly. She seemed to like it too.

A little later, we learned that she wasn't actually a stray, but the dog of someone the next street over. They didn't want her - they had a new dog now - and she certainly wasn't being taken care of with them. We assumed that since they didn't want her, she was ours, but one morning Animal Control showed up at our house, Daisy in the cage.

To clarify one thing: we live in the semi-country. Everyone on the street has two acres apiece, and the dogs generally run around as they please, though technically there is a leash law.

So when the Animal Control drove into our driveway, our dog was not pleased. He was even less pleased when he saw Daisy in the back, so the officer wisely decided to stay in his vehicle and talk to me through the window.

"The people down the other street called us in about this dog they wanted us to pick up," he said, indicated the confined Daisy. "And they said that your dog is loose and runs around, too. I'm gonna write you a warning, just make sure he stays tied up."

So he wrote the warning. I tied up the dog. He drove away with Daisy.
We were pretty sure we weren't going to see her again.

But this isn't a sad story!!

This morning, pulling my truck out of the driveway, I saw a little yellow wriggling animal. Even though I was late for class, I parked, got out, and petted Daisy, incredulous. She was muddy from nose to tail. "HOW did you get back??" I asked her. It would have been nice to get an answer.

But it's nice enough that she's back. We've been speculating as to how she could have come back... We're doubting it was the people who called the cops on her, and who else would it have been? The only thing we're left to assume is that she pulled a Homeward Bound and managed a prison break, trekking through the rain and mud to get back to us. Isn't that sweet?

And of course, our dog is pretty happy to have her back. We'll be getting little fluffy babies any time now. :D


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who i am!

Tiph used to be this weird hippie chick who sewed things and drank tea and rode bikes and wrote silly things. Then, college came along, and now she's this weird hippie chick with math in her brain and notebooks full of indefinite integrals. And hardly any time to write. This is her space. Thankfully, space is a vacuum and any complaints you may have cannot be heard.


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