This afternoon around 4 pm a couple of young men driving a utility truck pulled into my yard and asked did I own or know the owner of the dog they had on the back. A beautiful black labrador bitch. I immediately thought it belonged to Kevin, the farmer over the road but little Georgia who was here declared that Kevin’s dog, Zac, was a boy dog and this was a girl dog. What would a six year old know I thought and said to leave her here and I would get her back to Kevin who wasn’t at home at the time.
I’ll know better than to argue with Georgia in future, she is an observant child.
When my daughter-in-law got home from town about an hour later she agreed, yes Zac is indeed a boy dog. With a name like Zac I should have guessed but, hey, Kevin could have got another one to keep him company, right?
Luckily, Heather’s sharp young eyes could read the registration tag, so as soon as she left I rang the local council, expecting to leave a message as it was 5.15 pm by then, and thinking I would have the dog here for the night.
Surprise! A young man answered and said he would ring the owner and, with my permission, give him my phone number.
FOUR minutes later the phone rang. Can you believe that? Four minutes and her owner was saying, ‘Hello, Peter G here, I hear you have my Molly there.’ It was a neighbour from just down the road a bit. And there was no mistaking his delight at having found his Molly so quickly. (I know Adrian would be just as grateful if ever he mislaid his Molly.)
A few minutes later I was sitting on the back steps talking to her, I wish I’d taken a photo, she is a beautiful dog, when her ears popped up and she turned her head towards the road and then I heard the truck approaching. I thought she’d been happy with me but there was an obvious difference in her when she knew ‘the boss’ was here.
Around lunch time Molly had been with Peter out the back of his farm when she had gone off chasing a rabbit and went back towards the wrong voices, the fencers who were working at the back of the neighbouring property, and had hung around. When they finished their work for the day the young fencers had been calling in down along the road trying to find her home for her. They looked like brothers, friendly and open-faced if there is such an expression. Peter, of course, had thought that Molly would head for home when he left!
I’m amazed at the speed of the re-union between man and dog. And pleased to have played my part.
Below is photo of Zac (honestly, those two dogs do look alike!) when he accompanied the girls and me on a magical afteroon, exploring the creek as it passes down through his master’s property.
I like happy endings. And pictures of creeks! Georgia really is an observant young person (as well as talkative!).
ReplyDeleteAll's well, then. It's an awful feeling to lose a dog, so I can imagine the relief in the owner's voice.
ReplyDeleteAh, another Molly...so many Molly doggies out there. Ours passed away a little over a year ago so any Molly doggie has my heart. You could like this to my little blue meme: Midweek Blues! The blue pants and the blues that turned to joy!
ReplyDeleteOur doggy companions are just so important in our lives. Glad Molly was reunited with her boss!
ReplyDeleteThanks for deciding to follow me, got me to see a new blog which is alwys good.
Pauline, you know you should wait until you 'get older' before you make decisions about some things - this is one of them. I think Georgia's ahead of you as far as the 'status' of dogs go!
ReplyDeleteHello Pauline,
ReplyDeleteGo Georgia!!!!
Happy days.
Bev.xoxo