It has happened to us again; we came home from morning walkies on Thursday with an extra dog, to the bafflement and apparent disgust of the Lesser Weevil and Connor … who seem to be getting over it, even as I write. The current canine find is small, attractive, and relatively well-behaved and seems to be agreeable to cats. Which a dog in our house had damn-well better be … the cats outnumber the dogs, and are Superior Beings – at least, as the cats see it, and woe betide the canine which doesn’t acknowledge this superiority immediately.
We have done this quite often – arrived home with another dog. Usually we can locate an owner almost at once – either the original owner or someone who will step up to the plate and take said dog on. Now and again we have had to turn them over to the county animal shelter; a concern which is trying their damndest to re-house the amiable and healthy animals which are turned into their facility. This time we do have some hopes of locating the owner who is missing him. How many people in a short range of our neighborhood have managed to misplace what appears to the expert eye (of a breeder just a short way away) to be a young pure-bred male Pomeranian, of an appealing reddish coloring, an amiable personality, and agreeable to other cats and dogs. He (an unmistakably un-neutered he) was running around on one of the main streets through our neighborhood. It took a bit of effort to catch him, as they are fast-moving little b****rds. Two of our neighbors stopped and told us – as we were carrying him home – that they had tried to catch him, as he was merrily skipping about in the traffic along that main feeder avenue. We were the first to be successful, probably because he was curious about Weevil and Connor, so that after about three blocks of pursuit, feints and dodges, my daughter managed to scoop him up in her arms and carry him homewards – all eight pounds and some. Of which I think a pound or so is in the weight of his fur and about half a pound in the weight of his balls … un-neutered male, as I said.
He was gloriously filthy, having had a good couple of days of unsupervised freedom – long enough to ravel the fur on his nether quarters into unspeakably filthy knots, bedecked with a huge quantity of foxtails, stickers and other matter best left undescribed. We stopped and talked to a handful of neighbors – some of whom said they had seen him at large and from a distance, as a fast-moving ball of fluff – for about a week, which seems about right, although where he was getting food and water from is anyone’s guess. He was quite cooperative about being bathed and groomed – which is a huge necessity for the breed, and was enthusiastic about accepting a harness and leash and going for the usual walkies this morning. One curious note – he prefers women; doesn’t care for men at all, and now and again growls at me when I come into the house wearing the gimme baseball cap that I wear when working in the garden. So, I deduce a female owner, with other cats and dogs in the household. Dismayingly, though – there are no posters out for him, and nothing like him listed on any of the local lost-pet websites, and he can’t possibly have come very far. We’ve been told by people who know that that there are pets being abandoned right and left, even here in San Antonio, where things are pretty much OK. It does say something, though – that the abandoned dogs that we have found lately aren’t the overgrown, untrained young mutts that someone apparently picked up as a cute puppy and ditched when they turned out to be too much of a handful. Connor is a Maltese-poodle of some years, well-trained, amiable and socialized, previously well-taken care of, and the lost Pomeranian looks to be the same sort.
Oh, and if we don’t find his owner – which is starting to shape up that way – we’re going to keep him. Lord knows – he won’t eat much.
Definitely an alpha dog.
Ha! Ha! You should never had made eye contact with him!! Now, you’re hooked! We have a male Pommie/Jack Russell mix that looks Just. Like. Him. I’ve come to love him so much it breaks my heart…(how do they manage to pack that much personality into that itty bitty body?)…but he is a handful and rules the roost. Oh, he started out sweet enough, but he is evil-genius smart and has trained us to respond quickly to his whims.
In all seriousness, good luck with him. What are you calling him?
Ours answers to Your Royal Highness.
Make sure to have him checked for a microchip. A full coated, un-neutered Pom make have gotten loose from someone at a dog show, so do check with your local kennel club to see if they might have information on the dog.
He isn’t chipped, Nancy – that’s about the first thing we did, and the second was to go over to a dog-boarding, grooming and training school run by a local Pom breeder, who has a practically encyclopedic memory of every Pom owner in the area. She took a look at him, and he doesn’t match the description of the the two Poms who have done runners from their homes in the area. No chip, no collar, no tattoos, and she doesn’t recognize him at all She also runs the Pom rescue group, so she has him on their books, and was quite relieved when we said we could keep him, if his owner never turns up.
My daughter wants to call him Helo, or Helios. I don’t know how anyone could be so desperate as to dump a toy-sized dog, who has obviously been taken care of up to this point – but there are no posters out on the neighborhood for him, and no current listings for a lost male Pom on any lost-animal websites. If he was truly lost, his owner would be turning the neighborhood upside down, and plastering posters everywhere.
it’s a beautiful Pomeranian – my dog was pretty sick – took him to the vet yesterday – and while there a woman brings in a Pom – didn’t know they have black Pomeranians – he was the best behaved dog I have ever seen – just sat on the chair – by himself – until his mistress was done at the counter –
Bill
You are doing God’s work with this. We have have made homes for seven Chihuahuas over the years and have found them very rewarding pets providing there are no small children. Not having to groom them is a nice plus
Rininbi – I used to be good friends with a rescue person until I got mad at her – but to the point – in all my years of helping – picking up dogs from the pound – I came to believe that they know someone has helped them – and are grateful.
Of course I could be anthropomorphizing them too ;-)
Sgt –
The dog that I have – is a beautiful American Eskimo – really a white German Spitz (related to your dog ) strangers come up to me and admire the dog – years ago my mother had a champion German Shepard – sire was a national champion, etc, and I get more compliments about my “pound dog” than the GS –
Likewise your little Pom looks beautiful!
Wouldn’t trade my little black mutt for any dozen dogs. He is the guardian of the cats, barking to let us know if one of them has been locked out.
Alas – we found a poster this morning, while walking in the neighborhood – and the description fit the little Pom to a tee. We called the number on the flyer, and he is unmistakably their dog, so we returned him this afternoon. It turns out his name is Joey. His people are a new family, just moved into the neighborhood. He’s been gone for nearly a week, just as we suspected – but where we found him is about three-quarters of a mile from where his people lived.
I expect that I am a little relieved to find out that there isn’t a rash of dumpting of perfectly well-trained, mature and amiable dogs in our neighborhood – but we did get rather fond of him.
Well Sgt – you did what a Jewish friend calls a mitzvah – a worthy deed.