Wednesday, February 3, 2010

A dog named Fly

My 16-year-old went out for a walk last night, the kind of night that's a godsend as long as you're dressed up for it. He came back to report that he had seen 2 seemingly lost dogs, a border collie and a lab-cross. Both him and my wife went out with dog leashes to see what we could do to help out. They came back with Fly, a border collie. Fly (it says so on his tag) is your classic border collie. Lean and taut with a shiny well-groomed coat and intense eyes, Fly came across as a well-trained, well-exercised, and properly-fed dog. I wouldn't be surprised if she participated in competitions. Fly was confident and self-assured, not shy at all when we introduced her to our two dogs. Fly reminded us of our dear departed Celtie (died at 16, 2 years ago), a mostly border collie cross who was as close to being a human being (without the negative traits) as a dog could ever be.
The unspoken consensus amongst my wife and 3 sons was to keep Fly if it was unwanted. But Fly was obviously a significant part of another family, and care was taken that Fly would be returned. We dialed the 3 numbers on Fly's bling-bling: a 1-866 #, the vet's # (left a message), and the owner's home # (left a message). For added good measure, we phoned the Guelph Humane Society's 24-hr hotline. The animal control officer came to our door in less than an hour. We signed some papers and Fly left our lives.
Fly stayed with us for barely 3 hours. It's safe to say that we bonded with Fly the moment we met her. We will miss her.
(We will call the Humane Society later today if she has been claimed by her owner.)

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