Excuse the doggy pun. Even when I try hard NOT to write about dogs, something happens. Today, I got the train back down to Devon to be greeted by pouring rain and my mother standing on the platform with a new dog (see above).
Both were soaking wet. The dog had a makeshift lead (thanks to the kindness of Parkway Pantry staff at the station) because she didn't have a lead...
It turns out that - en route to pick me up - my mother had had to slam on the brakes to avoid this pretty pooch on a major road (the Exe Valley Road). Several cars had swerved to do the same. She was almost roadkill (the dog, that is).
She had a tag but not with the owner's details included. It required a scanner - found at the vet's or with the local dog warden. We came home, I tweeted about the lost dog - you never know, the right person may have seen it - she met our one remaining Labrador before we set off back into town to our lovely vet.
Can you believe it? They recognised her. She was so friendly - yet very nervous after her traffic ordeal - and extremely curious. The pretty pooch was indeed registered with them so we could leave her in their capable care. The owner's details are, apparently, never given out. My mother was still incredibly anxious about the dog but their vet of choice meant that they are good owners.
Fast forward a couple of hours and the vet rang. The owner had come to be reunited with their pet. Apparently, she had done a runner while out with the dog walker, leaving walker, owner and family distraught and distressed. The owner thanked my mother profusely.
Of course, if you are a dog owner/lover, what else can you do but stop and help? It's instinct. We had one particular dog who would disappear. Not frequently enough to warrant being walked on a lead permanently. But sufficient to create heart-stopping anxiety for a few hours. Several times over.
This story, I'm relieved to say, has a happy ending.
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