What if it had been YOUR dog?
“Blood is thicker than water.” Most agree with this axiom that rationalizes and informs many family/society conflicts. But what would you do in this case, involving a dog, a street, and well, you’ll see.
We were motoring home, Christmas tree atop the truck and groceries inside. The driver in front of us swerved to avoid a Lab that was digging, panting, and looking generally confused alongside our rural road. Karen asked if we should stop, but I was already unbuckling the seatbelt. The dog stopped her digging, tongue lolling as she eagerly came to my call.
The owner’s phone number was on the collar, and I was dialing as Karen found a leash in the truck. The owner answered on the second ring. She was 130 miles away. Apparently, a fence had been breached, rope bitten through or housesitter had dropped the ball … maybe all three, she suggested. I asked where she lived; only a mile or so away. Upon description of her place, I knew it immediately. The domicile of an arch political enemy I’d battled at county commission meetings, planning workshops and other venues when they’d tried to back-door a major commercial development in our rural neighborhood.
Now what? Turn the dog loose to fend for herself in traffic, among the coyotes? Tell the owner who I was, to stuff it, and “good luck?” Hold the pooch for ransom? Or remember this was about the dog’s safety and welfare and turn the other cheek, so to speak.
When we left, Jazz was safely back in her garage-kennel and all gates were secure. Maybe it was the Christmas tree, working it’s magic already. Or canine blood being thicker than bad blood.
I wonder if the tree had an ameliorating affect
Scott Linden Outdoors 