It’s a good thing I don’t know who did it. Here is the story.
She showed up at my house banging on the door and trying to get in the windows at the back of the house. She could see my two girls in the window.
I let her in and she would NOT go out into the fenced yard if I didn’t go with her. I posted her pictures on Facebook and called the shelter to see if she was lost. FB didn’t find anybody but the lady from the shelter called and came out. She checked her for a chip and she had a chip that was put in by the shelter, so she had been adopted before from the shelter. The lady from the shelter got the info from the chip to find out who had adopted her. She asked me if I cared to foster her until they figured out what was going on. I said sure.
In 24 hours I found out she is a house dog, is pad trained, house trained, and has the sweetest nature of any road dog I have ever seen.
The shelter lady came back out and said that she contacted the man that had adopted her two years ago. He is the one that put her out. The shelter lady asked if I would foster her long enough for them to rehome her because if she went back to the shelter that she would probably be euthanized due to her age, and they weren’t giving her back to him. I told her that I would adopt her, and I did. I didn’t NEED another dog since I already had three but no way I was letting her go.
I couldn’t find any real history on her, but I figure she belonged to an elderly person that maybe died or went to a nursing home and the kids didn’t want her.
There is a special place in h*** for people like the man that dumped her on the side of the road.
Similar story - this past summer the lady who was my mom’s daytime caregiver came in at 8 and said that there was a “weenie dog” running up and down the main road in front of the neighborhood about a mile away. I left here at one and when I got to that area he was still there, running down the middle of the road. Found the owners after looking for a couple of weeks, but they had moved and he didn’t go with them.
He has issues - lipomas, terrible teeth, (ugh) separation anxiety, heart murmur, - vet says he’s 12 or 13. So I’ve had his teeth cleaned and the biggest lipoma removed.
My grandson rescued a quail from his cat - we are treating him for an infection in his leg from the cat bite - but after 3 weeks he’s about the same so we may take him to the wildlife rescue up near Birmingham.
Part of living in the sticks, I suppose.