8/20 -- Pup, Redux?

A couple of months ago, we had a whole pile of photographs developed at Target. And we finally got back pictures of Pup, the stray dog we'd encountered during the last Christmas season.

That's him. (Or her, but I'm just going to continue thinking Pup was a boy dog if it's okay with you.) Although that picture makes him look like a little yappy fluffball, he's actually a decent-sized dog.

We never found out what happened to Pup. I could never bring myself to call the shelter because I didn't want to know if the news wasn't good. And I made Bill promise he wouldn't tell me if he called up to find out what became of Pup. Turns out that he never called, either. He was torn up by the same feelings I was.

For weeks after we turned him over to Animal Control, I wondered if we'd done the right thing. Would it have been kinder to just leave the dog where we'd found him if the alternative was turning him over to a shelter that gave him a mere seven days to be located and picked up by an owner before he was put to sleep? Or would euthanasia itself be kinder in the long run than leaving the dog out in an environment where he'd be cold, hungry, and at high risk of being attacked by other animals or hit by a car (rather likely given how much Pup demonstrated his fondness for darting in front of cars that night)? Or was there really a possibility that someone was looking for the dog and found him in time?

I hadn't thought about this for quite a while, but the pictures brought Pup back to mind. And last week I got a whole new reason to ponder Pup's fate. Bill didn't go into the office on Thursday, so I caught a Fairfax Connector bus to the Metro. As I left our apartment and walked towards the bus stop, I saw a woman walking a dog.

Pup. It stopped me cold. I swear to God that the dog looked exactly like Pup, and this was the first time I'd seen any dog that looked like him since the night we found him. He was the right size. He had that same quivery energy that Pup had. When he turned around to glance at me, he had the same deep chocolate-brown eyes. His fur even had that creamy cast. He looked whiter than Pup, but then again Pup had looked white outside too -- it wasn't until we took him inside that I'd seen the orange-cream shade of Pup's coat. And Pup had been pretty dirty; he'd be whiter too if he'd had a few baths since then.

I really wanted to stop the woman walking him. "How long have you had that dog? Did you maybe lose him around last December or so and then get him back? Or did you just adopt him from a shelter around then?"

But then again, maybe I didn't want to ask her. I'd have been dejected if she'd answered negatively. "Oh, no, I've had him for years. And no, he's never been lost." At least for that morning, I decided to convince myself that I'd seen Pup, that his owner had found him or that he'd miraculously ended up in a no-kill shelter and been adopted.

I have no idea what breed of dog this is, as I'm really not much of a dog expert. I posted a question about it on my message board; if any of you out there know what kind of dog he might be and how common of a breed it is, I'd love to know.

(And by all means, stop by the message board to say hello if you haven't already. Or even if you have. It's been fun to hear from people. Test your child star knowledge!)

Indulging my inner hit slut

(Clix, please?)

The next entry.

Previously, in Insomniaville ...

Main Page