John and I are becoming the neighborhood’s animal rescue league. First, the cat. Second, Max.
Max was adorable. I think he’s a Pomeranian, though much bigger than Chanel was (John thinks between 10 and 20 lbs). Unlike the cat, our dogs got along with him just fine. (They didn’t try to eat him.)
We saw him sniffing around a couple of the neighbors’ houses, so when we went out to run that morning, we kept an eye out for him. We spotted him at the bottom of the hill and spent the next 25 minutes or so chasing him EVERYWHERE. John finally caught him with the help of a friendly woman in a totally different part of the neighborhood, and I met him at home (I couldn’t keep up (I’m SLOW) and lost them when they took a turn towards home while I was still around another corner). Luckily, Max was wearing a collar with tags, so we left a couple of messages for his owners and got a call back within a couple of hours. The woman who came to pick him up said they were out looking for him ’cause he runs off all the time. That’s why they put their phone number on his tag. A better solution? Leash your damn dog! You know he’s a runner, so keep him on a leash! What is wrong with pet owners in my neighborhood?