There are animal angels, and then there are pets who can be less so….
My daughter Evie and I were headed home from running some errands on Saturday. Driving up Broadway near the middle of town, I caught sight of a little dog wandering on the sidewalk, his head hung low. “Mom,” Evie said in the same instant, “pull over. That dog’s lost!”
I slowed to a stop and we got out of the car. The shaggy little guy was wearing a collar with tags, no owner in sight.
“Here, puppy,” Evie cooed. “We’ll help you get home.”
She crept up to him, talking away soothingly, so as not to send him running into the street. “You’re safe with us,” she said. “We have a dog too.” When she’d earned his trust and was convinced he was friendly, she scooped him right up in her arms, as if she’d known him forever. I fumbled with his dog tags, but of course the type was too small for me to read.
Evie to the rescue. “Here’s his home number,” she said. “I’ll read it out, you call.”
But of course I’d left my phone in the car. Evie, being 12, had hers in her back pocket. She handed it over.
“We have your dog,” I said to the man who answered. Which I immediately realized sounded like a kidnapping for ransom. “I mean, my daughter and I saw him walking on Broadway, right across from the deli.”
“He got out?” the man said. “When?” He was as flustered as I was.
“Don’t worry, we have him right here now.” In minutes the man came bounding up to us. He lived just up the way and figured his little Houdini had snuck out when someone opened the front door. Evie handed the dog over with a kiss on his head.
“I told him he can’t just walk to the deli whenever he feels like it,” the man said.
Evie and I laughed and said goodbye. On the way to the car, I put my arm around my mature young daughter. Angels surely guide her.
