Roxy Finds Home
I just got the best hug from a neighbor I had never met. She was crying, and I was blinking back tears.
It all started with taking one of my earbuds out while passing a neighbor walking her two little dogs, just for a polite "hello" before continuing on with my walk and my listening. But the older Asian lady took advantage of my open ears, and pointed out a golden lab across the street. She thought it looked lost, and of course she was right, because here in Maryland--a dog off the leash and not with a human is very lost, and likely to end up in an animal shelter quickly.
It was starting to get dark as we walked over to where the dog was lying near an empty parking lot and the fenced, unused neighborhood pool. The dog was a little shy at first, but as I talked nicely to her, she wagged her tail and let me pet her. She was obviously well taken care of and very friendly, but I couldn't see a tag on her. So my Asian neighbor suggested I borrow one of her leashes, and she held one of her dogs. I accepted the leash and the challenge, resulting in the neighbor-lady's expression of mixed gratitude and guilt. I told her I would figure it out, and not to worry. So she finally went on with her walk, and I started mine--with a lost dog.
My first plan of attack was to try walking the dog around the neighborhood to see if she knew where home was. She pulled hard and seemed familiar with the area, but each driveway she sniffed was rejected, as if she really was looking but couldn't seem to find the right place. (All the houses in the neighborhood do look alike). We walked a big circle on one half of the neighborhood, and ended up back at the empty parking lot and unused pool.
I was praying by then. I felt bad for her. I wanted her to find the place where she belonged, with the people that loved her, but I didn't know what else to do. I sat for a minute and decided to post something on the Nextdoor.com site. Then I got up and decided to start walking it back to my place and break the news to my landlords that I needed some help. I figured we would probably have to call animal control or something, but I was really hoping I could run into the owners somehow before that.
I had just barely started in the direction of my house when an older African woman and her son walked by. The older woman was startled by the dog, but the young man seemed unshaken. I guessed it was not their dog, but I asked them if they knew of anyone missing one, not expecting the answer to be yes. But the answer was yes! They said they had just talked to a teenage boy up the street who was looking for a dog like this one! I was so relieved to hear this good news! The man tried to describe which house it was, but I said I didn't mind just walking up the street and trying to find it. He and his mom decided to come with me to help me find the owners, and I was thankful for the company and the help holding on to the big dog. (She could pull pretty hard).
We walked a little ways up the street and started knocking on doors. Neighbors were sympathetic and offered clues if they had any, and then it finally happened: We saw a middle-aged man still off in the distance walking toward us, and I asked him if he was missing a dog. He said yes, took one look at the dog, and was overjoyed! He was so thankful to see her, and showed me where the name of the dog and the phone number were stitched onto her collar. (I'll blame the darkness for missing that!)
The other two neighbors and I told our story, and the man said his wife had been in tears because they had been searching for the dog for two hours. Not long after, the wife came out of the house...and saw her beloved missing dog. She ran over to us, crying, and hugged me several times--so thankful to have her dog back safe. While her husband called their teenage son who was still out searching, the lady explained that the dog was on seizure medication twice a day and probably would not have made it through the night. I told her it was definitely a team effort, and we were all happy we could be at the right place and time to help Roxy find her way home. Roxy seemed quite happy to be back with her family too.
As I walked back to my house my co-rescuers--neither of whom I'd met before--I was struck by the grace of that whole experience. Old Roxy the golden lab had given us a glimpse into life beyond the walls and locked doors of our community. We live together but we usually live very far apart. These moments of every-day struggle, whether a blizzard or a lost dog, bring back the basic human instinct of connecting with one another. And when we do, we kind of wish we could hold on to that glow as long as possible. Usually, we don't really know how to, so we finish our hugs and thanks and goodbyes, and we go back inside, behind our walls and locked doors. And yet, we hold the glow and the smile inside a little longer, and when we see each other again, there's at least something to kindle a kind word or even a conversation. They are moments to be cherished, and never wasted.
It all started with taking one of my earbuds out while passing a neighbor walking her two little dogs, just for a polite "hello" before continuing on with my walk and my listening. But the older Asian lady took advantage of my open ears, and pointed out a golden lab across the street. She thought it looked lost, and of course she was right, because here in Maryland--a dog off the leash and not with a human is very lost, and likely to end up in an animal shelter quickly.
It was starting to get dark as we walked over to where the dog was lying near an empty parking lot and the fenced, unused neighborhood pool. The dog was a little shy at first, but as I talked nicely to her, she wagged her tail and let me pet her. She was obviously well taken care of and very friendly, but I couldn't see a tag on her. So my Asian neighbor suggested I borrow one of her leashes, and she held one of her dogs. I accepted the leash and the challenge, resulting in the neighbor-lady's expression of mixed gratitude and guilt. I told her I would figure it out, and not to worry. So she finally went on with her walk, and I started mine--with a lost dog.
My first plan of attack was to try walking the dog around the neighborhood to see if she knew where home was. She pulled hard and seemed familiar with the area, but each driveway she sniffed was rejected, as if she really was looking but couldn't seem to find the right place. (All the houses in the neighborhood do look alike). We walked a big circle on one half of the neighborhood, and ended up back at the empty parking lot and unused pool.
I was praying by then. I felt bad for her. I wanted her to find the place where she belonged, with the people that loved her, but I didn't know what else to do. I sat for a minute and decided to post something on the Nextdoor.com site. Then I got up and decided to start walking it back to my place and break the news to my landlords that I needed some help. I figured we would probably have to call animal control or something, but I was really hoping I could run into the owners somehow before that.
I had just barely started in the direction of my house when an older African woman and her son walked by. The older woman was startled by the dog, but the young man seemed unshaken. I guessed it was not their dog, but I asked them if they knew of anyone missing one, not expecting the answer to be yes. But the answer was yes! They said they had just talked to a teenage boy up the street who was looking for a dog like this one! I was so relieved to hear this good news! The man tried to describe which house it was, but I said I didn't mind just walking up the street and trying to find it. He and his mom decided to come with me to help me find the owners, and I was thankful for the company and the help holding on to the big dog. (She could pull pretty hard).
We walked a little ways up the street and started knocking on doors. Neighbors were sympathetic and offered clues if they had any, and then it finally happened: We saw a middle-aged man still off in the distance walking toward us, and I asked him if he was missing a dog. He said yes, took one look at the dog, and was overjoyed! He was so thankful to see her, and showed me where the name of the dog and the phone number were stitched onto her collar. (I'll blame the darkness for missing that!)
The other two neighbors and I told our story, and the man said his wife had been in tears because they had been searching for the dog for two hours. Not long after, the wife came out of the house...and saw her beloved missing dog. She ran over to us, crying, and hugged me several times--so thankful to have her dog back safe. While her husband called their teenage son who was still out searching, the lady explained that the dog was on seizure medication twice a day and probably would not have made it through the night. I told her it was definitely a team effort, and we were all happy we could be at the right place and time to help Roxy find her way home. Roxy seemed quite happy to be back with her family too.
As I walked back to my house my co-rescuers--neither of whom I'd met before--I was struck by the grace of that whole experience. Old Roxy the golden lab had given us a glimpse into life beyond the walls and locked doors of our community. We live together but we usually live very far apart. These moments of every-day struggle, whether a blizzard or a lost dog, bring back the basic human instinct of connecting with one another. And when we do, we kind of wish we could hold on to that glow as long as possible. Usually, we don't really know how to, so we finish our hugs and thanks and goodbyes, and we go back inside, behind our walls and locked doors. And yet, we hold the glow and the smile inside a little longer, and when we see each other again, there's at least something to kindle a kind word or even a conversation. They are moments to be cherished, and never wasted.
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| Not the real Roxy, but looks like her. :) |
Good ol' Roxy.
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