No fiction this weekend [back to it soon]. But the procrastination beast and I weren't grappling. No, I was out and about and dealing with things that needed doing. Namely, helping out one of the sweetest creatures that you'd probably ever meet:
About four months ago- late February- my bosses noticed a cage out behind where we work (which is the "behind" for another business, as well). In this cage was a big, semi-scary-spooky-wolf-looking dog, who barked whenever anyone came close.
To my shame, I was not the first to approach her cage. I tend to let sleeping- or barking- dogs lie. One of my co-workers, she who shall remain nameless but who kicks butt, went out and actually took the time to introduce herself... and ever after, the big semi-scary-spooky-wolf-looking dog has been nothing but an absolute sweetheart. Hereinafter, I shall call her Her.
Not long after this, nameless coworker and I met the owner. The cage was temporary, he was trying to get a place where he'd have room, or to get a friend to take Her... blah blah blah yeah right. It rang phony to me. Especially since the business where he worked, the one that the cage was behind...? Yup. A car dealership.
So, montage sequence please:
March, near-freezing rain rolling in. Does Her have a dog house? No. Cover? No. So just before things really get nasty, I went and bought a tarp and set it up so she could at least not be utterly soaked.
April, another month of rain, but it's warm now. My coworker and I have taken to visting every day, bringing treats. One Sunday morning it rained, and... LATE MONDAY AFTERNOON (a bright and sunny day), I'm out there and I notice something rather telltale- the bottom of the food dish is covered with rainwater. (I think the inference is clear) This kind of thing happens twice more. I start feeding her myself. Nameless coworker, kicking twice her share of butt, finds a doghouse for Her to use.
May, the cage starts to get gross. It smells. Hmmm. Could it be the piles of poop? Nameless coworker and I lift the cage and shift it so that the poop is now outside the cage, and do some cleaning. Shall we now make the assumption that walkings, like feedings, are irregular?
June? The sun is hot, the air is hot, her cage is hot. Especially in late afternoon. Nameless coworker and I try to shift the cage into the woods, but no go. There's a slope, and the trees are too close together. So, I use the tarp to improvise a sunshade that blocks the worst of the afternoon sun.
Cut to yesterday (Saturday). I drive in to work (80 mile round trip, sorry, I know, conservation- but we're talking a good and necessary cause) to make sure she gets fed and watered... and...
empty cage.
This can NOT be good, I think, walking up to the cage. I hope for a moment the owner has shown and is out walking her, but I know in my heart...
Yes, there it is. Links bent outward, there's a hole in the bottom of one side.
My heart was sinking faster than the Titantic... there's a big busy road about 50 yards away, the last time I know she was in the cage was about 24 hours before... and bad things are always happening.
Fortunately, sometimes good things do happen. I don't know whether my karma came through, or, more likely, it was all Hers, but that was the moment that she came running up and practically bowled me over.
Anyway, Things Are Being Done. She's out of that cage for good, and one way or another a far better home is now going to be hers.
But I want you to think... what kind of person would treat a dog that way?
(PS: Ownershit had not noticed the hole as of 24 hours later. Yes, I'm sure. Certain. Grrrrrr.)
About four months ago- late February- my bosses noticed a cage out behind where we work (which is the "behind" for another business, as well). In this cage was a big, semi-scary-spooky-wolf-looking dog, who barked whenever anyone came close.
To my shame, I was not the first to approach her cage. I tend to let sleeping- or barking- dogs lie. One of my co-workers, she who shall remain nameless but who kicks butt, went out and actually took the time to introduce herself... and ever after, the big semi-scary-spooky-wolf-looking dog has been nothing but an absolute sweetheart. Hereinafter, I shall call her Her.
Not long after this, nameless coworker and I met the owner. The cage was temporary, he was trying to get a place where he'd have room, or to get a friend to take Her... blah blah blah yeah right. It rang phony to me. Especially since the business where he worked, the one that the cage was behind...? Yup. A car dealership.
So, montage sequence please:
March, near-freezing rain rolling in. Does Her have a dog house? No. Cover? No. So just before things really get nasty, I went and bought a tarp and set it up so she could at least not be utterly soaked.
April, another month of rain, but it's warm now. My coworker and I have taken to visting every day, bringing treats. One Sunday morning it rained, and... LATE MONDAY AFTERNOON (a bright and sunny day), I'm out there and I notice something rather telltale- the bottom of the food dish is covered with rainwater. (I think the inference is clear) This kind of thing happens twice more. I start feeding her myself. Nameless coworker, kicking twice her share of butt, finds a doghouse for Her to use.
May, the cage starts to get gross. It smells. Hmmm. Could it be the piles of poop? Nameless coworker and I lift the cage and shift it so that the poop is now outside the cage, and do some cleaning. Shall we now make the assumption that walkings, like feedings, are irregular?
June? The sun is hot, the air is hot, her cage is hot. Especially in late afternoon. Nameless coworker and I try to shift the cage into the woods, but no go. There's a slope, and the trees are too close together. So, I use the tarp to improvise a sunshade that blocks the worst of the afternoon sun.
Cut to yesterday (Saturday). I drive in to work (80 mile round trip, sorry, I know, conservation- but we're talking a good and necessary cause) to make sure she gets fed and watered... and...
empty cage.
This can NOT be good, I think, walking up to the cage. I hope for a moment the owner has shown and is out walking her, but I know in my heart...
Yes, there it is. Links bent outward, there's a hole in the bottom of one side.
My heart was sinking faster than the Titantic... there's a big busy road about 50 yards away, the last time I know she was in the cage was about 24 hours before... and bad things are always happening.
Fortunately, sometimes good things do happen. I don't know whether my karma came through, or, more likely, it was all Hers, but that was the moment that she came running up and practically bowled me over.
Anyway, Things Are Being Done. She's out of that cage for good, and one way or another a far better home is now going to be hers.
But I want you to think... what kind of person would treat a dog that way?
(PS: Ownershit had not noticed the hole as of 24 hours later. Yes, I'm sure. Certain. Grrrrrr.)
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
What do you intend to do with Her?? *I didn't understand the whole end of your post*