Dog Rescue |
"Can you come down to my office for a minute?" My husband's voice sounds urgent. |
"What's wrong?" |
"Nothing, Just come down when you get a minute." |
I walk down the green cinder block hallway to the guidance office and into the small room on the right. David is on the floor playing with a small, white, wriggling puppy. He looks up. |
"They came and got me this morning. Michelle Hoggard had him locked up in her car with a cup full of Mountain Dew and half a biscuit." |
"It's eighty-five degrees outside!" |
"I know it." |
The puppy has toddled over to my feet. He looks up at me. I pick him up. |
"So, what do you think?" he says. |
The puppy licks my face. His tummy is taut and pink. I smile. |
"I guess we don't have much choice, do we?" I say. |
"I reckon not." |
When the bell rings at five minutes after three, my husband and I give our explanations and leave early to take our new charge to the veterinarian for a checkup. On the way, the puppy sits up between us in the cab of our old truck, panting and looking out the windshield. |
"What should we name him?" |
I shrug. "Do you want to wait until after the vet?" |
"No." My husband pats the dog. "He looks okay to me." |
As we try to think of a name that will fit, I think of all the things that could go wrong at the vet. The puppy could have worms; at worst, he could have Parvo. This would mean almost certain death. |
"I don't think I can go through Parvo again," I say. |
"No, but he's okay." My husband smiles at me, then down at the dog. |
"I can tell." |
For us, this is dog number five. We are a couple of softies when it comes to a stray. And though sometimes it may break our hearts, we will continue to rescue them. |
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