What is it about a lost dog that makes me drop everything to help? I’m totally not kidding. In this case we were on our way to get frozen yogurt and instead I found myself trying to befriend a scared stray wandering the parking lot.
About 5 years ago, when my daughter would still have been in a car seat, I literally jumped out of the car on a freeway (traffic was at a standstill) to try to grab a dog who was trapped on it. It was only after my unsuccessful attempts (and almost getting hit by a huge truck) that I returned to my car and realized my daughter had been left alone while I tried to save the dog.
As with the freeway incident, I did everything I could to help the parking lot dog last night. I called animal control, waited with another family (who were trying to lure it with the pepperoni) and then chased down a police car to come help. Meanwhile the stray skittered by me and escaped.
There is something about not knowing what happened to either of those dogs that seems to steal a little part of me. If I could save the world, one dog at a time, I suppose I would. But experience has also taught me that, just like those dogs, some situations are out of my control. Still… I can’t help but try.
Sooo… if you are missing a medium sized, black and tan, male terrier of some sort in the area around West Linn, OR check with the police. Last I saw of him he was heading to the back door of the pizza place, looking for more pepperoni.
Only had more black coloring.