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Today's excitement...
Oct. 5th, 2006 03:41 pmSo, I went upstairs to get some laundry (since I'm going down to Kingdom Crusades this weekend), and when I get downstairs, I find a strange dog snuffling the back window. So I wander outside to see what's up. The dog is a juvenile St. Bernard (probably around 60-80lbs), who later turns out to be male and neutered. He's basically clean, which means he's somebody's pet, although there is no collar.
I've never seen this dog before, so I ask the neighbor kids if they've ever seen him. They say "no, but he was by our house earlier." Thanks Bryan, Mr. Policeman, for taking care of this stray dog... Not! So we lead him through the house (to get him away from the shrieking 5-year olds), after shutting Bran in the bathroom, onto the porch. Zohra gets him some food and water, and I call Animal Control.
I finally find the number, and call. It's some interactive voice response system (the office closes at 3:00), but there is a number for animal emergencies. I figure, WTF, if it was my dog, it would damned well be an emergency that he was missing. I get this young women at the police department. The conversation goes like this:
"Police Department, Deb."
"Hi, I, uh, found a dog with no collar."
"Where's the dog?"
(I give the address)
"Is that where you are?"
"Yes"
"What is your name"
(I give it)
"What does the dog look like"
"Looks like a St. Bernard, juvenile, maybe 80lbs or so..."
"Oh, okay. We'll send someone right over."
Hmm. So I wait on the front porch, with the phone and the dog. He wins lots of scritches (perhaps a mistake, in retrospect). Heck, I was bored too.
Maybe about ten minutes later, Animal Control pulls up. After memories of experiences in Flint and every terrible movie dogcatcher, I had become a bit concerned. All of that ended the minute the woman gets out of the car: she's about 35, smiling, and probably 250lbs at least. She barely gets to the sidewalk, sees the dog and says: "Your mom's getting a big ticket this time... want a cookie?"
So, she slips a leash on the dog, but he plants. Apparently, my porch is more fun (oops) than the back of the animal control car. She ends up having to get in the back WITH HIM to get him in. So it turns out this is the third time this month he's gotten out. Last time, he got sprayed by a skunk. Yay.
So, I thank her, she thanks me, and off they go. Rather a minor PITA, but I had to miss my hair appointment (rescheduled for tomorrow), since![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
zohra had to take Bran for his appointment at the vet. Still, Bran's been picked up twice by kindly samaritans since we adopted him, so I guess (as Earl would say) it's karma.
I've never seen this dog before, so I ask the neighbor kids if they've ever seen him. They say "no, but he was by our house earlier." Thanks Bryan, Mr. Policeman, for taking care of this stray dog... Not! So we lead him through the house (to get him away from the shrieking 5-year olds), after shutting Bran in the bathroom, onto the porch. Zohra gets him some food and water, and I call Animal Control.
I finally find the number, and call. It's some interactive voice response system (the office closes at 3:00), but there is a number for animal emergencies. I figure, WTF, if it was my dog, it would damned well be an emergency that he was missing. I get this young women at the police department. The conversation goes like this:
"Police Department, Deb."
"Hi, I, uh, found a dog with no collar."
"Where's the dog?"
(I give the address)
"Is that where you are?"
"Yes"
"What is your name"
(I give it)
"What does the dog look like"
"Looks like a St. Bernard, juvenile, maybe 80lbs or so..."
"Oh, okay. We'll send someone right over."
Hmm. So I wait on the front porch, with the phone and the dog. He wins lots of scritches (perhaps a mistake, in retrospect). Heck, I was bored too.
Maybe about ten minutes later, Animal Control pulls up. After memories of experiences in Flint and every terrible movie dogcatcher, I had become a bit concerned. All of that ended the minute the woman gets out of the car: she's about 35, smiling, and probably 250lbs at least. She barely gets to the sidewalk, sees the dog and says: "Your mom's getting a big ticket this time... want a cookie?"
So, she slips a leash on the dog, but he plants. Apparently, my porch is more fun (oops) than the back of the animal control car. She ends up having to get in the back WITH HIM to get him in. So it turns out this is the third time this month he's gotten out. Last time, he got sprayed by a skunk. Yay.
So, I thank her, she thanks me, and off they go. Rather a minor PITA, but I had to miss my hair appointment (rescheduled for tomorrow), since
zohra had to take Bran for his appointment at the vet. Still, Bran's been picked up twice by kindly samaritans since we adopted him, so I guess (as Earl would say) it's karma.
