Friday, October 14, 2005

The dog days of fall

I did something good today. And I should feel better for doing it, right? Then why do I feel only melancholy?

It started yesterday when a friend alerted me to a black-and-white cattledog mix due for euthanasia at an animal control facility over an hour away. I found the dog's picture online and just felt that tug that says, "Oh, hell no!"

So I made some desperate calls. All the shelters and even my veterinarian's office are overflowing with animals up for adoption. Cats everywhere are delivering litters, many facilities have opened their doors to those rescued from the hurricanes, and there seemed little hope for this gal. But one of the technicians at my veterinarian's office mentioned that the clinic's groomer lived on a farm and may be able to watch the girl until we could find her a home.

I called the groomer, but she didn't have the time or finances to adopt the dog. So I drove out there today, slapped down my money, and told the heartless animal control officer (who'd earlier that morning on the phone gruffly told me that the dog had just barely missed the needle) that I'd be taking this black-and-white girl home.

She was so incredibly sweet. Black and white paws, a white muzzle and chest. Ears that stand up until they just can't fight gravity anymore and then flop over. She sat, she shook my hand. She's housetrained and quiet as a field mouse. She just wanted to cuddle up and be loved. And it broke my heart to drop her off at the groomer's. I'd love to take her in, but with our own girls we simply can't. And while I should feel great I got her off death row, I feel crappy I can't give her a home. Her freedom may have been purchased, but she still needs a permanent home since the groomer already has six dogs and needs no more.

Why aren't people more responsible with beautiful creatures like this?!?

2 comments:

Magazine Man said...

Well, you did a good thing, but I understand the melancholy. You feel bad because you can't do more; you can't give her a home. But don't beat yourself up. You saved her life. You went out of your way for her. More than most people do.

Wish I could help, but we've already got our own abandoned doggy. I do have a friend out your way who's plugged into a load of no-kill shelters and private folks who take in animals throughout the midwest. I'll ask him if he knows anyone in your neck of the woods. You never know...

Shel said...

You did something super sweet! I know Miss Pup is grateful, and so am I. :-)