Farm Fresh Blog

This is Old Timer. 

(Don't get excited, he's not staying!)

Last night Other Half and I attended a fancy suit & tie multi-agency thingee which necessitated both of us trying to get out of the house without dog hair on black fabric.  (not easily done in our household!)  Nevertheless, we arrived at the little shing-ding, met interesting folks, discussed national security, interstate commerce, and livestock guardian dogs (I kid you NOT!  Another couple found out we had sheep and asked us about Anatolians!  We ended up talking dogs most of the night.  Go figure.)

Anyway, when the ride was over, and people were filing out, this little wayfaring stranger flagged us down.  He ran up to Other Half, jumped on his leg and said, (and I quote), "HEY, I need some assistance!  I've lost my human and my cellular phone.  Could I borrow your phone to call my human?"

How this dog found the one K9 handler in a sea of suits I don't know, but he did.  And from the moment he climbed into Other Half's arms, I knew that at least for tonight, he was coming home with us.  So much for not getting dog hair on a black suit. A Secret Service Agent helped us with him and after calling his mom and not getting an answer, we drove around the neighborhood to talk with security guards, yuppies, and homeless people to see if anyone knew where this little guy came from. No such luck.

A few well-placed phone calls later and we had an address but it was nowhere near where he'd flagged us down.  We also found another phone number but it only yielded another answering machine.  It looked like Old Timer was coming home with us for a while.  Oh joy, just what we need - another dog.

Fortunately Old Timer loves to travel, loves to be carried, walks on a leash, is familiar with a dog crate, is housetrained, and gets along well with other dogs.  The night was not nearly as stressful as I'd thought it would be.

And bright and early this morning his mommy called Other Half to report that Old Timer had been staying with friends while she was out of town.  He had gotten away from them, faced fast-moving cars, braved the pitbulls in the ghetto, forded the railroad tracks, and flagged down the three people in a sea of suits most likely to lend him a cell phone.

I returned him to his mommy this afternoon.  She saw his little face in the passenger's seat and began running down the sidewalk even before my truck came to a stop.  I rolled down the window and she ripped him through the open window and into her arms. He wriggled around, kissed her tears, and started to tell her about his big adventure.  All I can say is that God must certainly look out for brave little dogs with big hearts.

Note: Old Timer made it home because he was wearing a dog tag with his name and telephone number and he was friendly enough to flag down a stranger.  Dog tags and/or microchips are well worth the time.  I would be hysterical if my little Lily had been lost in that neighborhood.  Other Half says I would have had a police helicopter up looking for her.  (He's right . . . I'm sure we could have somehow tied the disappearance of a Border Collie to terrorist activity and national security.  I'm very creative that way.)