I picked up a stray dog today after I nearly ran her over--but it's probable she would have damaged my car more than I damaged her. This is a picture of her breed--I think she was mixed with maybe St. Bernard too.
She was the sweetest thing and came right on over when I called her, and she got into my car and I drove her to my house and called the cell number on her collar--no answer, so we left a message. An hour later there was no call back, and our poor dogs were tired of being yelled at for barking at the strange dog in the backyard.
Sage and Kali
Just when we were beginning to panic that we might have this moose in our backyard all night--and would she freeze outside? where will we put her inside? if she sleeps in the guest bedroom will she tear it to pieces?--we got a call from a quavery voice, a sweet elderly woman who lived not one mile from us.
This dog, Dixie, evidently went to the same dog training school that ours did--the Dig-And-Dig-Until-You-Are-Free-Under-The-Fence School. She had already escaped once today and the sweet lady was so happy we had found her! Reminds us that even when we're exasperated and mad at our dogs for escaping, we're happy to find them too.
All's well that ends well.