There’s a red dog lost on the paved road that runs past my house. He’s skinny.
I stop my car, pull over and call to him. He runs away.
I drive up the lane to my house, grab a bottle of water, a bowl, and a bag of cat kibble.
I call out to Bill and rap on his Studio door.
“We have to get this dog!” I shout. “He’s in the road and some car is going to hit him.”
Bill get’s a leash and we’re off, driving slowly, looking up dirt lanes and behind trees.
I stop the car at an ill kept house along the way. The lady who lives here sometimes helps me corral lost dogs in the street and the last time I saved a dog, it was one of hers.
I pound on her door. And pound again. There is a great yapping and flinging of strong dog bodies against the flimsy screen.
A younger blonde version of the older woman comes up behind me. She’s just visiting she says, and tells me she’s the woman’s daughter. She might be in her 40’s.
Yes, she says she’s seen the dog in the road and tried to catch him and he ran off.
She points to a small dirt road ahead of us. “I saw him run up there.”
I hop in my car and off we go, as Bill and I fly up that road. If cars had wings we’d be racing the wind currents.
I stop the car and pop out. Bill eases out his side and walks onto a property where there is a house for sale.
There she is, the red dog, behind eucalyptus trees with her back against a fence, watching us.
I can’t see them but I hear 2 women from where we just came from, talking about the dog.
“Over here!” I call. “We need help. The dog is here. We need you!”
Two women come trotting up the lane. It’s the mother and daughter.
The dog leaps as Bill approaches her, then runs away. She runs toward me and quick, I pour water in a red bowl. The dog stops and drinks madly, then tears off, again.
The ladies think the dog belongs in the house at the end of the lane, beyond a big metal gate. They think they have seen her there.
Leaning hard on the gate, I try and push it open. It won’t push. It’s locked.
The ladies and Bill are running and swooping, trying to catch the dog. I’m calling shrilly into the house beyond the gate.
Big dogs at that house, roar their distaste and rush for me. It’s chaotic.
At last, behind me the red dog allows the older women to grab and hold her.
From the house beyond the gate, a man, a wavy figure behind a long dark glass window calls out, “What’s going on!”
I call to him that I think we have his red dog, “The one with the skinny bones!”
The man comes out and gestures that he’ll check behind his house to see if that dog is missing.
What is this fellow doing locked up in a dark house on this sunny day?
Yes, it’s his dog.
Hurrah! A happy ending.
The man comes over to us wearing a bandana on his head, a youngish man who wants his privacy most of all.
I’m very friendly, clasp his hand and say I’m his neighbor Venus, and we’ve been chasing his dog all along, through and away from the busy road.
I wonder what this man’s secrets are. I think he has some.
But, he’s happy to see his dog and leads her away.
I jump around and clap my hands and shout to Bill and the ladies about what a good team we are and how well we all work together catching lost dogs.
We’re all happy but I think maybe I am the most happy…or maybe just the most effusive and vocal about it?
Any day when you can save a dog’s life, is a good day I think!
“Everything is better since we talked, Venus. You work Magic.” x Maggie R.
Marie writes: “Thanks to Venus Andrecht ! Always a riot and her reading on my most recent relationship was so bang on (and so was her last one!) “
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