Roo and I had just arrived in Brevard, North Carolina. It's a cute town and we took a walk on Main Street. I was wondering how it was pronounced, sure that I was going to make a fool of myself if for some reason I had to say it.
Suddenly, about a block ahead, I saw what looked like a couple with one dog on a leash, a shaggy black shepherd of some kind by the look of him, and another dog, light and short-haired, off leash. The light dog was bounding out onto the street, out of control, and I thought, man, there's a dog who needs to be on a leash before he gets killed. We were heading towards each other.
"Is that your dog?" I asked, and they said no, which by then I could see. The light dog was all energy, trying to hassle the other dog into playing with him. The people were not enjoying his company.
"I'll try to grab him," I said, "and you can make your getaway."
He refocused on Roo and came bouncing in her direction. Thinking he didn't look dangerous, I scooped him by the collar as soon as he made a pass close enough. He began bucking like a bronco, a-whangin' hisself thisaway and thataway to shake his new rider off. Roo was on a Flexi, so I could maneuver a little. I gave him a few reassuring pats on both sides of his skinny body and held him with all four on the ground and told him to calm down. He started to.
A couple came walking over and asked me if he was mine. They had seen him bounding into traffic, too. We started talking about what to do. It was going to have to be the cops. I called while the man held the dog.
911 transferred me to the local station. The policeman asked me where I found him and I hesitated for an instant. I knew I was going to make a fool of myself having to say "Brevard" somehow. Before I got a chance, the dispatcher said, "Bre-VARD?"
"Yes, 100 Main Street in Brevard." I don't know why I was worried about that. Maybe because Brevard is the kind of town I could see Rooki and me moving to.
I left to go to our car, and came back a few minutes later with a spare leash. A policeman was there and said Animal Control was on their way.
The woman said to the cop, "Aren't you the one stopped me that one night and put my gun up on the roof of my car while you searched it for drugs?"
"I thought you looked familiar," he said. They had a good laugh over it.
Meanwhile the dog was all over me.
"I'll tell you what," the woman said to the cop. "Dog just loves him. Cried the whole time he was gone."
I went to get a couple of pieces of Roo's jerky out of the car. Roo was not appreciating having to spectate from inside the car. When I got the jerky bag, she knew what was up and jumped in the back to get in my way.
"Oh, come on. Let the poor guy have a couple of pieces of jerky, will you?" I asked Roo. She looked at me. "Okay, you have one, too."
The guy was skinny and hungry and he scarfed the jerky down before he got stuffed into the kennel in the Animal Control truck a minute later. I'm recorded as the finder and had to sign him over. Isn't that funny, how someone who never so much as met a particular dog before has enough legal authority over him to have to sign him over?
I posted him on the Lost & Found Dogs of North Carolina facebook page. We can only hope for the best. I can not take him, so let's please not start to go there.
I'll find out more tomorrow.