Here's How I Ended Up In A Vet's Office Listening To A Lady Discuss Her Vomiting and Diarrhea

You know what happens when you make plans?

Last night, before bed, I sat down, wrote out a to-do list for today, and set my alarm to get up nice and early so I could get a good start to the day.

And I did get a good start... I took Charlie on our morning walk, and half way through, we came upon a stray dog. And you're talking to a girl (well, you're not actually talking, but....) who rescues earthworms after rain storms. And if the situation were reversed, and if it were my stray dog someone came upon, I would hope they'd change their plans to help my pup. So, after ascertaining that the dog was friendly and hopefully not rabid, I took Charlie's leash off of him, put it on the Australian Shepherd (the stray), carried Charlie and off we went.

I'll try not to bore you with the minutia that followed. It includes multiple phone calls to Animal Control and some very unhelpful people. Suffice it to say, I discovered that it makes you feel very alone when you're trying to help a helpless creature that no one else seems too concerned about helping. So, on we walked, the fifty pound Shepherd tugging me forward, Charlie flopping along in my arms, looking quite dejected at the fact that another dog had won his leash and that he was no longer walking and sniffing and peeing (some of his favorite activities).

And then we came upon Charlie's vet clinic, which just happens to be on our route. "Ahah!" I thought. Maybe they'd be willing to help me ... even it's just to give me a second leash to use for the rest of the walk home. By that point, I'd decided to walk the dog the 2 miles back to home and hope animal control would eventually come. But those brilliant folks in the vet clinic did even more. They scanned my new furry friend for a microchip and discovered he had one. Fast forward past some unhelpful 1-800-microchip employees who eventually gave the veterinary clinic the owner information. Vet clinic called owner. Owner wasn't home. Yada yada yada. So, THAT'S how I ended up in a vet's office listening to a lady discuss her vomit and diarrhea. Whilst standing in the office waiting while the employee left a message on Pet Owner's voicemail, an elderly lady walked in to (I later learned) pick up her cat. But, while she waited, she regailed us all with details about the flu she was fighting. And all I could think was, "Yes! That's so what I wanted today when I woke up ... the chance to be in an inclosed space with someone who has the flu." Actually, that's not what I was thinking. Really, I was wondering at how, when you make plans, life happens. And before you know it, you're an hour and a half into your morning walk, standing in a clinic, exposed to the flu, trying to locate a Pet Owner. And your to-do list is sitting at home all clean and unscratched.

Now, fast forward again to several hours later. Mr. Wanderer has food and water and is pacing the confines of our garage like any good herding dog. And his owner is on the way over to pick him up. That's right. This story has a happy ending. Funny thing is, though, Mr. Microchip owner never called back. Turns out, the current owner of "Duke," (he has a name now) found him 8 months ago trying to herd a flock of ducks in a hospital parking lot. He and his family took Duke in and made him their own. And when Duke got away this morning, Pet Owner drove the streets looking for him and decided to check at the vet office to see if they'd seen him. Thus, even though Mr. Microchip pet owner never called back, Duke was reunited with the family that loves him because we just happened to walk past the clinic, I just happened to leave my name and number, and current Duke owner just happened to check w/the vet's office on the off chance they'd know something. Duke ran to his owner when he arrived, jumped happily in the car, and off he went.

Life is funny. You make lists. And sometimes you cross things off. And sometimes you go all Cesar Milan on life and walk a 50 pound Australian Shepherd next to a 10 pound poodle. I didn't get everything done today that I intended to get done. But it was a good day. And Duke is home.