A dog showed up one evening. It was shy, scratchy, and emaciated. It didn’t have a collar. It looked like some sort of coon-hunting dog. It wouldn’t approach within twenty yards. It was in obvious distress.
I figured the most merciful thing to do would be to shoot it in the head. I knew I couldn’t do that, though. The softies in my family wanted to feed it. I guess I would have to be included in that group because I got the meat and cut it into throw-able chunks we could toss at her.
Once we fed her, she stayed around and howled outside the house most of the night. I didn’t get to sleep until 1 am. I figured I knew why her previous owner got rid of her.
Another day of feeding her and night of howling and she finally let us pet her. Once she started trusting us, the howling stopped. So now we call her Cider. She sleeps on the porch and follows us around all day looking for attention. Since she’s put on some weight, she’s starting to look more like a Lab.
We put a perfunctory ad in the paper, mainly to show the boys the right thing to do. I doubt anyone is looking for her. I’m sure someone took her for a ride and dropped her off. It ‘s such a cowardly way to deal with unwanted animals. Most end up suffering before they die.