After a walk this morning at Posh Neighboring Town Nature Preserve, we stopped by Posh Shopping Center to get some Nature’s Miracle (because it wouldn’t be life at our house without pet accidents and/or acting out behavior, right?). As we prepared to pull onto Route One and head home, Pure Luck spied two dogs on the loose in the parking lot across the way. It’s a new little strip of shops, a bank and a Starbucks, and the lot was full of Posh cars of one sort and another. A big SUV had stopped at the exit, and two women appeared to be trying to corral the two enthusiastic Golden Retrievers. We watched, concerned, and when the opportunity came to cross the road, we did.
Two good-looking dogs, one young and very well-behaved, the other grey-muzzled and a bit impish, seemed ready to continue their incredible journey if not for human intervention. We got our leashes from the car and improvised a collar for each, since they had neither collars nor tags. Big SUV Lady called the police, and then took off. Her helper got water for the dogs, then left them in our care after I promised to call her with news.
We ended up waiting for help to arrive while sitting and petting the dogs. Someone thought they lived close by, since at least one of them had been spied eating crusts behind the pizza place one plaza over. I don’t know if they found the buffet open today, but they had definitely been for a swim!
The policeman who turned up was in a big truck rather than a squad car, and the two dogs happily hopped in behind him. He said he thought he knew where they lived and assured us all would be well. I wish I had thought to take a picture of them. You see, we left the house sort of cranky this morning; it was the kind of day you remember every little thing you wish had been said or done differently. These runaway Goldens were angels for us this morning. There’s something irresistible about an old dog whose first move on meeting you is to lie down on your feet and ask for a tummy rub! And there is something winsome about a young dog who goes into a perfect sit just because you start to rub under her ears, a dog who won’t go to the man with the cookie until you tell her it’s okay, even when her sister is already there having a treat.
It took a few tries to wash off the smell of marsh-y dog on my hands, and the mood improvement seems to be sticking, too.