After church, I went to Morgan City and then took the scenic route back to Houma to visit a friend in a nursing home there. He was wandering along the side of a busy road in downtown Houma and I couldn't just keep driving. His fur was a mess and full of sticks and leaves and he seemed so confused. He was nervous when I approached him but sniffed my hand and let me scoop him up. In fact, after I scooped him up he decided we were best friends, and sat happily in my arms as we wandered around the neighborhood to see if anyone recognized him. First I tried to call the vet listed on his tag. They're closed on weekends.
No answer at the first few houses. A man on a bike passed by and thought it might belong to a couple in a blue house down the street. So little dog and I went there.
They had a few little dogs, and this one was not one of theirs, but they thought his name was Poofy and he belonged to a girl who lived around the corner. She drives a silver Nissan Versa with lots of bumper stickers.
There was no such car to be found on that street, but one of the women sitting outside on her porch was pretty sure he belonged to the house across the street.
No one was at the house across the street, so I left one of my cards with a note on the back.
Little dog (who I decided was more of a Doofy than a Poofy) was very tired and panting, so I decided to take him to a friend's house in Bayou Blue 20 minutes away to hang out and get him some water while we came up with a plan. I tried to get most of the sticks and leaves out of his hair.
The people weren't home but I have a key, so I got a bowl of water and we played in the back yard as not to disturb the cats in the house. Doofy wandered around a sniffed some things, and finally made noise for the first time when he noticed the neighbor's rooster, who was about twice his size.
I called the vet's emergency line, which said to call animal control, which said to call the police station, which said to call the vet's emergency line, which said to call animal control... animal control wouldn't pick up the dog unless it was hurt or aggressive. Doofy was healthy and sweet. I asked if I should break his leg, because I needed to get back to New Orleans and shouldn't bring Doofy back with me. They didn't think it was very funny, but didn't really offer any help either.
I called the police again. They had zero suggestions. Doofy smelled some flowers and drank some water.
I got a call! From the house where I left my card! Her dog was home with her, but thanks for leaving my information. She suggested I look up a local lost pets page on Facebook that tends to be pretty responsive.
I do not have a phone that is capable of doing such things. This was the first time I felt bad about that. (I still don't want one though.)
My parents kindly did some internet research for me. I sent my dad a picture using my phone (see, I'm at least a little high tech), and he managed to get that information to the page's administrator. Eventually, she called me and offered to take the dog until the vet was open tomorrow. She lived in Houma and took her own dogs to Doofy's vet, and often fostered dogs who turned up like this.
So I went to meet her in a shopping center parking lot back down in Houma. Doofy fell asleep sitting up.
The woman met me, and was really kind. Turns out her father sat behind me in church this morning, and his mother-in-law is the friend who I was trying to get to visit in Houma in the first place when I found Doofy.
I love that everyone down the bayou is related. I love nice people who do nice things like take care of nice little lost dogs. I love that my parents were totally on board with helping me instead of criticizing me for having an old timey cell phone. I love the conversation that my parents were having--
"She's a piece of work." -Dad
"It's all MY fault." -Mom (meaning, she taught me the whole stop- and- help- the- poor- sad- animal- thing)
"I know." -Dad
I love that my dad would stop and do the same thing anyway.
I also love that I now have proof that I was not trying to avoid a date with Mike early in our more- than- friends- relationship, when I made him pull over to pick up a sad, wet beagle on a rainy morning by the side of a busy highway when he was trying to take me out for brunch for a second date so I would stop saying "You have to go on more than one date for it to be considered dating". This is just who I am.
This is what my day ended up looking like:
tl;dr: another typical story about how I put over 200 miles on my car today (broke 62,000 miles, in fact).
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