- Intermezzo -
When I go out, it's like I always have something to write about by the time I get back. But it only seems that way since I'm home most of the time. Of course, this doesn't always happen like that. When it doesn't, I have to depend on life handing me something interesting enough to write about.
So we were back from grocery shopping on an early Sunday evening. About to open our garage in the alleyway when all of a sudden this little white dog darts right out in front of our car. Some kids trying to catch it. My wife wants help, so she gets out of the car while I go park.
I walk across and they have it cornered. I can tell it's scared. I'm not so sure it's a good idea to try to pick it up but somehow my wife manages to get her hands on it.
It's calm at first, but then starts freaking out. It nips my wife on the finger and manages to get away. The cat and mouse chase resumes until we have it trapped again. It's sitting in the corner of the doorway to someone's townhouse.
I approach and sit on the steps, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible while avoiding eye contact. I tell the three kids (one sister, two brothers) to give it some space and to not look directly into its eyes.
'Yeah, don't look into its eyes and stay back!' they shout at each other while looking straight at it and getting closer.
I thought to myself, this dog must live close by since it's not running very far. I'm unsuccessful in goading it out of the corner so I tell my wife I'm going to grab a leash. I pop the trunk open before forgetting I need to close the garage door first. The trunk door clunks against the open garage. My wife is across the way and has just noticed this the same time I have. Thankfully she's so caught up in the excitement she forgets to yell at me.
As I walk back, some guy appears and strides along with me. He saw me on his Ring camera and wondered what was going on.
The guy's wife comes out of their house too. We all stand around wondering what to do. I take a picture of the dog and go ring my neighbor's doorbell to see if he knows it. He comes out, I show him the picture but he doesn't recognize it. 'Cute dog,' he says. The reason I ask him is I remembered a long time ago he was chasing a dog around the neighborhood because it belonged to one of the people down the street. He has no idea what I'm talking about though and mentions the three houses down the block have all changed owners.
I get back and notice they've got it on our leash. It has a collar but no form of identification. Its lying on its back and everyone is taking turns rubbing its belly. I notice the evening has gotten dark. Kate takes a picture and posts it on Facebook. The guy does the same but uploads it to NextDoor. We all continue to stand there and it becomes apparent no one wants to go first. So I say, 'Well, I'd take it in but I have two very unfriendly corgis.' The guy's wife mentions her dogs are very territorial.
All of a sudden this big Labradoodle-looking thing wanders in from nowhere without a leash and owner. The guy and I look at each other incredulously before I exclaim, 'It's raining dogs!'
The owner appears and gets the dog on his leash. I recognize him. It's my neighbor, the one whose daughter I've recently started teaching piano to. I greet him but he doesn't seem as surprised as I am. 'Oh, hi Warren,' he says.
'Did you say hi to your piano teacher?' he asks his daughter. We wave at each other and shortly afterwards they leave.
I turn around from saying goodbye and notice the guy and his wife have vanished. With a heavy sigh I announce to the kids that I'll be taking care of the dog. We get back to the garage and the kids are inside petting it before I tell them we really have to get going now. Before they leave my wife asks their names. The sister and one of the brothers tells us. Very typical American-sounding names. They look Middle-Eastern so I was expecting something different. However, the other brother has an exotic-sounding one. I pronounce it out loud to make sure I get it right. 'Did you say Ah-Dahn?' I ask him.
'No,' he replies and looks at me for a second. 'Adam.'
• • •
I'm not a cold-hearted person. It's obvious to anybody how much I love dogs. But there's a reason I don't want to rescue any dog I see on the street. So I'm a bit mad at my wife, not because of her actions but because I'm the one who will suffer the consequences.
I tell her this dog is going to be her damn responsibility. That she better hope the owner finds it soon, otherwise what're we going to do? Send it to a shelter where it'll get killed off when nobody wants it? Fat chance. We'll end up indefinitely fostering it and I know the more we take care of it the more attached we'll get. But we're getting ahead of ourselves here, we're not even sure how our boys will react to it. They are not exactly model canine citizens.
Let's leave it in the garage, she says. This thing is skin and bones, it'll freeze to death in there! I say. You better give the damn thing a bath and keep it separated.
Me? No way, that thing bit me.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFINE. So I trudge upstairs with the thing. Thankfully, the boys are very confused about this nocturnal visitor.
I take off its pink collar. I notice it's filthy so I give it a good scrub. I confirm it's a girl. Well, she barely weighs anything so her bath is done in no time. By the time I dry her she seems completely comfortable with me.
It's late so I figure she must be hungry. She takes a few pieces before spitting them out. Must not be used to high-quality dog food. But then she gobbles it all up. I give her some slices of tomato and blueberries. She sniffs but doesn't partake. Must not be used to vegetables and fruits. I examine her nails and find them to be too long. Her teeth are white (she must be young) but I can tell they haven't been regularly brushed.
I give her a toy and she plays with it excitedly. It's fun watching her nibble away at it. Winston remains aloof but to my amazement she and Kingston act like best friends! It looks like I won't need the puppy gates so I set them aside. The kitchen's too cramped for them so I take them upstairs. They're having a blast with each other in the bedroom.
I'm having so much fun watching them.
• • •
My wife checks Facebook. Not a single message. 'What the?' she says.
'There's like five other lost dogs in here.'
• • •
During dinner it becomes obvious to me she's a spoiled little princess. The way she's begging, you can tell she's used to table scraps. Whatever my opinion about her physical appearance, I can assume she has been treated very kindly. I think it's not going to be so bad to take care of her, at least for a little bit. I resolve to take her with me to Winston's appointment on Tuesday, to see if she's microchipped.
I pet her. She settles down in one of the dog beds. I feel at peace watching her doze off.
I go to my room so I can finally get some reading done.
• • •
10:30 p.m.
My wife tells me there are people at the front door and I immediately know who it must be.
I go to open it and there is a man and a woman. Another man is standing a bit further off in the dark, on the sidewalk.
The man in front of me must be my neighbor but I've already forgotten what he looks like. As if he senses my confusion he points at himself and says, 'your neighbor.'
He says the woman is the owner, that she saw his post on NextDoor. He says, 'Turns out she's actually my next-door neighbor!' I don't catch any of this for some reason (my wife is in the kitchen, listening via our doorbell camera app). As if to snap myself out of it I say, 'Thank God!' I go to the kitchen, grab her and reunite her with her owner. She is overjoyed, trembling and licking her face all over. She looks so happy. The owner does too. Before they leave I ask what her name is.
'Lucy.'
• • •
Once they're gone my wife says how proud she is of herself. That she felt she did the right thing.
Well that's pretty damn easy for her to say.
I am wondering why I felt so disoriented when they showed up. I didn't want to take care of this dog but at the same time I was disappointed when they showed up. Then I remember this is not the first time it's happened. We were living in a cramped apartment when we found this Jindo-Gae wandering around the neighborhood. Friendly, no tag on its collar. A couple of days later we found his owners on Craigslist. My wife told me not to contact them. I wavered for a second. But no matter what I felt, I knew I had to do the right thing.
When the owners showed up they were overjoyed. To thank us they had brought an entire package of Pedigree canned dog food–which we donated to a shelter later. My wife cried afterwards.
I wanted to take care of Lucy long enough to feel our bond deepen. I was curious to see if I had changed.
Later, my mind keeps returning to the guy standing on the sidewalk. I tell my wife about him. He must've been the owner's husband. He was kinda fat but that's not what bothered me.
He wasn't wearing a shirt.
'Ew,' she says.
