Dog Lost Human, Found New Home, New Humans

We call her Sally Forth. Long and lean, she bursts into the kitchen and sashays right up to the counter where she stands, legs up to here as she surveys the room looking for the goods. Yes, the goods, perhaps a biscuit or any other delicious morsel that's good to eat. She's Sally Forth and she's confident that she'll get what she wants.

And she usually does, this hound dog, who strolled into our lives a few weeks ago without much ado. She just showed up and our two male dogs didn't protest when she stuck around. She didn't have a collar, but I was sure she wouldn't be around long because surely someone would come looking for their expensive hunting dog.

At least that's the opinion of most. I know nothing about hounds that hunt or cost money because my dogs are mutts. I put a "Found Hound" sign up on a tree at the end of the driveway, although the rain soon washed it away. I took pictures and posted a couple of them at on the bulletin board at McGill's store along with contact information. So far, no good.

We thought we had found Sally Forth's human when a "Lost Dog" sign was posted just a few miles away. We called, and the guy whose dog was lost came looking. When he saw Sally Forth, he said, "I never thought I'd see her again".

Then he took another look, right into her eyes and said with sadness, that she wasn't his after all. His dog had different eyes and was smaller. Sally Forth, knowing a good man when she saw one, sashayed right over and stood on her hind legs, paws on his chest, tail wagging.

The man left with a heavy heart and Sally stayed on, taking over Buster's warm spot on the loveseat. Buster didn't mind because he has lots of fur and likes being outside more than inside. But when Sally Forth is outside, she sits at the French doors, looking in pitifully. If she wasn't used to being inside before, she sure is now. I tell myself that she isn't mine, that I'm just taking care of her until the owner, I mean the human, comes for her.

I called the man who'd lost his dog to see if he'd found her. He hadn't and when I asked if he wanted Sally Forth, he declined, saying the lost dog had been his wife's favorite. I understood because you can't just replace a dog you love. I got some tips and made some more calls, but so far nobody knows where Sally Forth came from.

So within the radius of a few miles, a man has lost his dog and can't find her; I found a dog and don't quite know what to do with her. On second thought, maybe Sally Forth is the one who found me.