I've been sick with a cold all week, working from home. Thursday was the first day that I actually felt human, so I planned to drive down to the City, get in to the office around ten, and get caught up. But fate intervened...

Maddie and I were three-quarters of the way through our around-the-block circuit, approaching the corner of 5th and G Streets near Wickersham Park. We paused to let a procession of school kids pass, Maddie watching with fascination as they paraded past. "Where are they headed?" asked Maddie. I shrugged. "They're not heading to my house, are they?"

I shook my head. "No chance of that, Maddie," I said.

"Oh good," said Maddie. "I'm not in the mood for a party today."

"Yeah, me neither." I bent down, scratched her head as the last kids passed, a pair of girls linked arm-in-arm with a youngish teacher.

We let them get a bit further ahead, then started down the street, Maddie pausing to sniff and point things out as we ambled along. "Check out that bug. Hello, Bug," she'd say, looking down, or "Hello, Crow," she'd say, looking up. I'd nod in acknowledgment, not really paying attention, then prod her back to moving along. Midway down the block, as the kids began to disappear into the middle distance, Maddie stopped. "Hello, scared little dog," she said.

I stopped. "What dog?" I asked.

"There," said Maddie, pointing with her paw. "Next to... er... Under that car."

I bent low. Sure enough, shivering underneath a parked car was a terrified Shih-Tzu puppy. "Hi there, little guy," I said.

Maddie stared for a few seconds, then said, "I think she's a she."

"Okay, little girl," I answered, then turned back to the puppy. "You want to come on out of there?" I asked. The puppy just shivered.



"What are we going to do?" asked Maddie. "I think she's lost."

"Looks like she's got a collar," I answered. "Sit here," I pointed to a neighbor's porch. "I'll see if I can coax her out."

Saying and doing are entirely different things, so without going into too much detail, I spent the better part of the next half hour prone on the curb talking to this little dog in a calm voice, treat in hand, hoping to bribe her to safety, as Maddie offered helpful hints from the sidelines. At one point, the little refugee got nearly close enough for me to grab her collar, but I fumbled, spooking her into running to hide under the next car up the street. Fortunately, that one was a big, American SUV instead of a tiny import, so I was better able to crawl under, catch the puppy by the collar, and lead her out into the light.



One task accomplished, a new complication reared its ugly head. Collar, but no tags. As I held the little dog, feeding it bits of jerky, I wondered what I was going to do with this dog, particularly since I needed to head down to the office. So I wandered from door to door, ringing doorbells, asking "Do you know this dog" to the neighbors that were 1) home on a weekday morning, and 2) willing to answer their doorbells. No luck, though a couple of my cooler neighbors offered to keep an eye on her for a bit. I called Jennifer for wifely advice, then called Stephanie at Our Best Friends, asking if anybody had dropped off a "Lost Dog" sign in the last day or so. Still no luck.

So we went back to the house, and Maddie babysat (barking all sorts of rules and admonitions to the new arrival, hoping to keep her in check) as I got the rest of the way ready to drive down to work. I figured we'd drive around looking to see if anybody was out looking for a missing dog, or if any telephone poles had been newly decorated with fliers.

But then my doorbell rang. Standing there was my neighbor, owner of a Dachshund named Herc (short for Hercules, a bit of a wanderer himself, Herc has a habit of taking himself for walks). The neighbor explained that the puppy was his visiting sister's dog. I handed the dog over, followed my neighbor out to the sidewalk and within a few moments, his sister approached. My neighbor headed back to his car and drove away, and I stood awhile chatting with his sister (as the now-happy puppy planted kisses all over her face). The little refugee was Lola, who had been left in the back yard with Herc, and had likely decided that she'd had enough of Dachshund attention and shimmied under the fence, planning to take her chances with the big, wide world. I'm sure the parade of kids (who, surprisingly didn't notice a little dog hiding under a car) panicked Lola, leading to my difficulties in luring her out to safety.

But it's a happy ending. Lola is back with her human, and Maddie and I managed to get to work before eleven.


Late yesterday afternoon, once we got home from work, I sat with Maddie on the back porch, talking with her about the day. "So what did you think of Lola, Maddie?" I asked.

"Why?" responded Maddie, "Is she coming back over?"

I shook my head. "No, I was just wondering what you'd think of having a little sister, another dog around the house. Would you like that?"

Maddie looked at me suspiciously, considering the question. "Sounds like an awful lot of work," she said.

I scratched her head. "Yeah, you're probably right," I answered.