I plan to check on Tito today.
Each time I deliver a stray animal to Animal Control I always follow up.
Here is one of my most satisfying rescues....you can read this to Sunny...
When my dear-departed-late-X-husband (DDLX-H) was alive, we would often takes a drive in the early evening to count bats and deer on Skidaway Island. It was a very relaxing pastime. One evening I yelled,"Stop the truck; I think I saw a dog." Well, good old DDLX-H reluctantly stopped his truck and every so slowly back down the road to the place I indicated. Yes. It was a dog. A huge Yellow Lab was just sitting in the shrubs on the side of the road. It looked pitiful.
Of course, not being a bleeding heart dog lover like myself, DDLX-H said, "Hope you don't think you're gonna put that flea-bag in my truck." No, of course not. That thought never crossed my mind. At this point my mind was busy occupying itself by sending daggers in X-hubbies direction.
Animal Control does not work at night; their hours are 1 pm until 5 pm, so I spent a long night worrying about that dog. I packed a few things and set an alarm for very early and drove out there first thing in the morning - in my filthy, dirty car. The dog was still in the exact same place.
At first I thought it must be injured. But no, after a few minutes of soothing talk, I saw the dog get up and move around a bit. I put food and water down and walk back to my car so as not to intimidate the dog. I called Animal Control who, even though they are not open to the public at that hour, does answer their phone. I was busy giving directions to dispatch who informed me it would be at least an hour or more 'til they could get all the way out to the island. And what's this?? The dog got up, walked across the street, squatted down for a good long pee (now I know it's a girl dog), then walked back across the road and jumped into my car. "Never mind sending out a unit", I told Dispatch, "It looks like I am gonna drive this dog to you".
We drove along peacefully for several miles but as we neared the intersection where Skidaway Road crosses Ferguson Road the dog started to cry. Pitiful. She recognized the intersection. I was sure her former owners lived in that area and now am convinced that they dumped her like a sack of unwanted garbage because she was old and fat and unloved.
The next day I went to check on the dog. She had already been picked up by a local group that rescues only Yellow Labs. They had picked up three Yellow Labs that morning. So even though I will never know the reason for the dog being way out there in the middle of nowhere, at least I know her stay in 'dog jail' was short and that she was well loved and cared for by her fosters. I am sure she is happily sleeping in the shade out in the county on a farm with her new family...
Oh, forgot to add...
and they all lived happily ever after. The end.
