June 2, 2011

The Adventures of Neener and Noods: The Stray Wiener

Just a little dachshund walking down the street. Changed my entire day.

I had only driven down my street when I saw him, tiny pup chillin’ in the middle of the street, heading somewhere, anywhere. I looked at Noodles and knew: Do unto other dogs as you would have others do unto your dog. I hopped out of my car and coaxed it over which only took a few hellos and a squat to his level. He greeted me by rolling over. It was the point of no return.

I knew a busy morning awaited me so I drove him to my house to gave him free reign of the backyard, leaving him food and water, and a note for my roommates. The food was gone before I was.

Warning: Tiny Dog Ahead

As soon as I reached my office, I used the power of Social Media! to get the word out. The idea behind Social Media! is that between my friends and their friends and their friends, we should be able to accomplish really random and awesome things together, right? The little wiener dog’s mug was quickly passed among connected Dentonites online and suggestions and encouragements were sent our way. Hopes and spirits were high.

Adorable wiener face, I'll help you!

By lunch, I had so many people tell me to check if he was microchipped, I figure I might as well solve that mystery and took the pup to Denton Vet Center. I held the squirmy dog as the gal waved the strange space-aged microchip finder around. And, abracadabra, we had a winner! I left with the magic numbers and letters that would somehow transport the little hot dog back to his owner. I left the vet’s office, hopes and spirits high.

I JUST WANT TO RUUUUUN!

I tried to call the microchip people in my car but lil’ hot dog would not stay still. Plus, he was letting out some rank stinks. So, we headed to my office where he met my coworkers and continued meeting Noodles. First number I tried redirected me to another phone number. That number was wrong. Did some Googling and found the correct number who tried to connect me to the wiener’s owner. Would not go through. I tried the number directly. Out of service.

While the stray kept the office busy, licking everyone’s faces and jumping onto desks, I continued my quest, checking Facebook for the name of the owner. No luck. I did the Googling some more and found two addresses for this person. Dishearteningly, the addresses were quite far for a dog, being over 6-7 miles away. So, I Googled “Denton vet” and called every veterinarian on the first page of results. What are the odds that this dog would be microchipped but have no records at the major animal clinics in town? Whatever they are, we got the short end of the stick.

I even called the microchip people back to see if a vet was registered but they only had “SPCA Texas” listed as the ones who installed the chip into the pup. So, I called the SPCA and they had the person’s name on record and even a different phone number but it was out of service, too. But! I did find out his name was Speedy! Appropriately named.

I had people send me links and a few sent me the same home addresses I found on the web. As much work as I had to do, I felt like I needed to Scooby Doo this and get lil’ Speedy to his owner so I waited ’til after 5 to do things the old fashioned way. I wrote down the two addresses, loaded Noods and Speedy into the car, and away we went.

Don't let him fool you. He did not stay still very long.

I went to the address that was six miles away from my neighborhood as I felt that the probability was high that the owners lived there. Answered by a mumbly dude wearing a Mavs jersey, I asked if the owner lived there and if they were missing a dog. He yelled, “NEPHEW!” into the house and a young teen came out and said he was missing a little dog. Hopes! Spirits! Risen! He seemed to describe the dog until he said it was a chihuahua. And then he looked at the dog. Hopes! Spirits! Disheartened!

The dogs and I headed to the other side of town to an RV park. I was already conjuring up other plans of what to do with Speedy that didn’t involve the animal shelter (who I had called several times during the day but only reached their answering machine). I knew that the animal shelter had been recently filled with a load of dogs and I didn’t think that would be a fitting conclusion to sweet Speedy’s adventures. I had a lot number and drove until I found the trailer. Pickup out front, chairs and a grill near the front patio. Maybe, Speedy. Maybe.

I knocked. Three lil’ kiddos answered.

“Um, I found a dog and was wondering if it might be yours? Is there a (owner’s name) here?”

A kid disappeared and I continued to stand in the hot heat. The littlest one opened the screen door and asked me for a high five. It was a legitimate high five.

We waited some more and a big dude came out and I stated my case again.

“Joe? You found Joe?”

Uh oh. Wrong dog again? Really?

Big dude followed me to my car with kids in tow.

“Joe? I lost him a long time ago. It can’t be Joe.”

Yeah, ’cause his name is Speedy!

But, all the day’s stress, sighs of desperation, and stinky dog farts were suddenly lifted when I heard the dude exclaim, “JOE! It really is Joe!” I handed the lil’ wiener to him as he held him up, still in disbelief that his dog, his family’s dog who had been missing for months – maybe even a year – had made his way home by way of a short Asian girl and her short-legged dog. See, they had actually lost him when they lived at their previous residence: the house I first went to. How Joe (which is short for his wife’s name) made it to the other side of town into my ‘hood is beyond us but we all stood there, quiet and smiling, for a good solid moment, soaking in the goodness of the world until I finally bid them farewell.