Lost Dog

This morning, a car stopped up on Lloyd and the woman driving asked me if I had lost my dog.

“I did, but not like you mean. She died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I just see you out here walking a pit bull all the time and I saw a pit bull up on the ridge running around and I thought, if it was your dog, I could put you two back… I’m so sorry.”

“We’ve seen that dog, too. But it looks well-fed so we think it has a home.”

“I’m just so sorry about your dog.”

“It’s okay. She was fourteen.”

“But that’s just a baby.”

And I had to laugh, because, though, when she was alive, I regularly teased her by calling her “grandma,” it does, in retrospect, seem like she was so young.

But, it also made me laugh that we’d apparently become such a regular sight up on Lloyd that her absence is noticeable to the cars that regularly drive it in the morning.

2 thoughts on “Lost Dog

  1. The Butcher and I have a theory about this other dog, which we see around on occasion. It’s clearly not a stray–it’s well-fed, in good physical condition, and it has a few different collars it wears in rotation.

    We think what’s happening is that its owner doesn’t realize that pit bulls can pretty easily jump or scale a fence. So, the owner is putting it out back in a fenced-in yard every day before he or she goes to work, the dog is then wandering the neighborhood happily all day and getting back in the yard before the owner gets home and is none the wiser that the dog is a happy tramp during the day.

  2. Possibly a neighbor is even putting it back into the yard. My dog-next-door loved to dig under the fence to get out of the yard, when he was younger. But he didn’t particularly want to go anywhere; it was just the thrill of escape he loved. So he’d come over to our yard to say hello, and I’d put him back over the fence into his yard. Which was fine until he decided that that was a really fun game….

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