Follow, Follow Me

Look what I brought home this morning!

A sleepy-eyed Brooklyn traipsed down the stairs at 7am, and spoke with wonder, "You bought us a dog?!"

Of course, her reaction wasn't nearly as powerful as the look of shock/horror on Jason's face when I returned from my morning jog with a box terrier.

So here's the scoop. My good friend Brittney and I braved the cold this morning to run outside. About a mile into our run, we see these two little dogs running right through the middle of a busy intersection, nearly getting flattened by oncoming traffic. One has the sense to turn around and go back, but the other comes right for us. We tried to get it (actually, "it" was a "she") to follow her canine companion, but with no luck. Not knowing where to return the dog, we simply kept running.

And the dog followed. And followed. And followed... Trotting along with us for over two miles.

At this point in the story I must digress. When it comes to pets, there seem to be two diametric mentalities. There's the "farm animal" mentality, where a dog is kept outside, occasionally gets a scratch behind the ears, disappears for weeks at a time, and comes back when he'd like some scraps of food. While these dogs are enjoyed, they are basically expected to fend for themselves. If something happens to them, it's certainly sad, but accepted as the harsh reality of life. On the other extreme, there are many dog lovers for whom their pet isn't simply like family. Their dog is family. My children only have one cousin: a beloved pug Zoe whose wardrobe is quite possibly larger than my own.

As this cute little terrier devotedly chased our heels, I knew that she was not just a pet: she was a family member. I thought about Zoe and knew that I could no sooner leave her out in the street to fend for herself than I could leave my preschooler alone in the parking lot. Unfortunately, we still had a long way to run before we would be home, and I was worried the terrier's little legs wouldn't make it. And so, we called Bruce for rescue.

Our phone call must have seemed so absurd to Bruce, who was raised on a dairy farm and is probably more closely aligned with the farm animal mentality. Why should he leave his comfortable, warm surroundings to pick up a dumb dog who strayed too far from home? Still, he humored us and came, playing the hero as he picked up "Chloe" and I. (The name is in honor of cousin Zoe.)

I confess that Chloe was a charmer. Friendly, gentle, cuddly--just not good with traffic. We had a fun time playing together for forty minutes until Animal Services came to return her to her owner.

And Jason? Well, despite his tough words about never wanting a dog, Chloe won him over too. I think he'd be more than happy to keep her again--at least for the day. :)