All's Well That Ends Well

On Saturday morning before Thanksgiving,  my son in law called me to say that he'd found a young male Cairn Terrier wandering in his neighborhood; in fact, he had seen it running about for several days, looking tired, scared and hungry. It had finally wandered its way into his yard, and his dogs were not happy!  The terrier wore no collar, thus no tags which might help reunite him with his owners. Since I had a fenced back yard, could I please keep the little dog for the weekend until the Animal Shelter was open?  He would bring dog food from his own supply, and a kennel.

Since I'm known to be a pushover, I said "Sure" and he quickly arrived with the dog and kennel, which was placed in my kitchen.

The little dog was a honey!  Dirty, but sweet and friendly, and we took to each other like we'd been raised together. After wolfing down a pack of moist dog food and taking great slurping drinks of water, he had a great time leaping and romping through the leaves in my back yard, barking at birds and chasing squirrels.  I took a few photos of him and, while he was romping, I prepared a "FOUND" poster for son in law to post in his neighborhood.

As evening drew near, bringing quite chilly temperatures, I knew it was time to bring him inside (I don't "cotton to" leaving dogs outside in the cold. I know some folks keep dogs outside, especially large ones, but I'm too tender hearted to do that. I expect if I had a Saint Bernard or a Great Pyrenees, it would be a house dog, too.)

Before carrying him into the house to meet the cats, I brushed him down to remove the worst of the grime. He accepted the brushing almost gratefully, so I expect he was tired of being dirty. I would have loved to have given him a bath, but I didn't think I was up to quite that much activity.

The introductions were more civil than I expected.  The female cats mostly ignored him; only my large male cat seemed to be incensed over the intruder, but warfare was avoided by sharp reprimands to both cat and dog.

It appeared that the little dog, who I temporarily named "Charlie" was used to being inside, and was very comfortable being a lap dog, and just the right size.  He lay beside me in my recliner on both Saturday and Sunday evenings.  When it was my bedtime, I placed him in the kennel, turned off the lights and went to bed. I didn't hear so much as a whimper from him all night. Nice dog!

On Monday morning, I called the Animal Shelter (a prerequisite before bringing an animal to them.) They had not had any inquiries about a lost Cairn Terrier, but would accept him. "Charlie" sat calmly in the passenger seat of my car while we made the trip to the Shelter. He was logged in and the attendant said that, were he not claimed by the owners, he would be put up for adoption the following Monday. I told "Charlie" good bye, and went on my way, knowing that were he not reclaimed nor adopted, I would be back for him. (Our shelter is, unfortunately, not a "no-kill" shelter. Animals not claimed one way or another are euthanized after several weeks.)

Now... you're thinking that I have a dog in my household, aren't you?  Wrong!

I called the shelter on Thursday of the week he was up for adoption and learned that he had been reunited with his owners.  As I said in my title: all's well that ends well.