With the pitchfork in hand I headed up to the coop to perform a hay exchange. A dark shadow in the brush behind the coop caught my attention. I was ready to take on this demon if need be. After all, I was armed. I think it started to approach me first. I paused. And then the demon wagged its tail. I pat my hand on my thigh and the happy creature came over for some lovin'.
When I was finished I called the number on her lone tag. The operator there called the owner. No answer. At this point the two of us are hanging out on the front porch. There may or may not have been bones involved. A couple of hours later the owner called us and said that Skinny Minnie here was not actually her dog. She had found her as a stray, kept her for a little while and then gave her to a foster. The foster kept her for a little while until she found a more permanent home.
After an early afternoon of phone tag and a calm evening with (newly dubbed) Roxy resting in the living room with Charlie - the what-ifs crept in.
What if we don't find her owner? What if she was abandoned? What if I fed her too much today? What do we do with her tomorrow while we are at work? Are we ready for a second dog? More importantly does Charlie want another dog? If we take her to the vet and don't adopt her will we still be charged?
After dinner I took some recyclables to the new bin and Roxy was right on my heels on the way out of the house. She decided to go meet the neighbors. Then all of the sudden runs down to the street while 2 cars are passing. (This rarely happens.) I said a 4 letter word in front of my neighbor and his kid - Sorry!- then chased after the little black dog. One of the cars stops and the driver side door opens...
(At this point a lot of thoughts are going through my mind and I am probably being unfair and extremely judgemental so I'll just say...)
Hoppy was reunited with her lady and Sir Charles still has sole reign of the kingdom.
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