As I walked toward the entrance to our vet's office yesterday to pick up some food for chocolate lab Aquinnah, whose sensitive tummy requires a special diet, a guy in a dark-blue SUV with New Jersey plates rolled down his window. I figured he was just going to say hello or comment on the beautiful weather, but the man, who appeared to be in his mid to late 60s, was distraught.
"Have you see a dog?" he asked.
"A loose dog?"
"Yes. He got away from me."
"No I haven't. What kind of dog is it?"
"A husky."
"Oh. Gee, I'm sorry, but I haven't seen any loose dogs."
After I picked up Aquinnah's food, I headed back home. My route took me through a semi-rural stretch of central Maine, and as I drove I glanced from side to side, hoping - but not really expecting - to spot a loose husky along the highway. I figured if I saw the dog and managed to lure it into my car, I'd take it back to the vet's office in the hope that the folks there knew how to contact the owner.
All of which was a very long shot, of course. For one thing, the pooch might have headed off in the opposite direction. And I hadn't even thought to ask the pup's name, in case I needed to call it to me. So I'd pretty much given up on finding and rescuing the dog by the time I reached a red light at an intersection several miles from the vet's office.
There, stopped directly in front of me, was an SUV. A dark-blue SUV. With Jersey plates. And a large, excitable husky bouncing around in the back.
"Have you see a dog?" he asked.
"A loose dog?"
"Yes. He got away from me."
"No I haven't. What kind of dog is it?"
"A husky."
"Oh. Gee, I'm sorry, but I haven't seen any loose dogs."
After I picked up Aquinnah's food, I headed back home. My route took me through a semi-rural stretch of central Maine, and as I drove I glanced from side to side, hoping - but not really expecting - to spot a loose husky along the highway. I figured if I saw the dog and managed to lure it into my car, I'd take it back to the vet's office in the hope that the folks there knew how to contact the owner.
All of which was a very long shot, of course. For one thing, the pooch might have headed off in the opposite direction. And I hadn't even thought to ask the pup's name, in case I needed to call it to me. So I'd pretty much given up on finding and rescuing the dog by the time I reached a red light at an intersection several miles from the vet's office.
There, stopped directly in front of me, was an SUV. A dark-blue SUV. With Jersey plates. And a large, excitable husky bouncing around in the back.
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