Here’s a feel-good story to kick off your weekend: Earlier this week Blotch told readers about Olive, the Tandy Hills Natural Area’s unofficial mascot that went missing.
Don and Debora Young were heartbroken and did everything they could to find their adopted shelter dog of five years, including posting signs and sending emails.
Their hard work paid off.
“Olive’s six-day odyssey has an unbelievably happy ending,” Don Young said. “She is now safely in her humans’ arms. A very nice gentleman who works nearby saw Olive in front of our house last Sunday. Concerned that animal control might get her, he took Olive to his home on the South Side where he took good care of her. A few days later he saw one of the many signs we had posted. Today we got the call that anyone in our situation would wish for but few receive. Debora and I are very grateful for all your prayers, lighted candles and positive thoughts.”
Confession: Blotch had positive thoughts about Olive but forgot to pray or light candles.
Confession Two: A similar thing happened to me a few years ago. My dog, Hazel, went missing. I’d removed her collar for some reason, but she was wearing a flea collar, which in my mind is clear indication that she belonged to someone.
After she didn’t return home, I painted a huge sign about a missing dog and stuck it in my front yard with my phone number.
A few days later, a guy called and said he had my dog. Turns out, he lived right around the corner. He said he found Hazel on the side of the road and picked her up. I asked where he found her, and he said beside the road in front of my house. In other words, he found her in my own freaking front yard.
I’m glad he returned my dog, and I thanked him, but in the back of my mind I was thinking: “Why did you put me through this? Why did you take my dog from my yard? Thanks for nothing, pal. Butt out next time.”
Okay, that’s harsh. Do-gooders are trying to do good.
But apply common sense, folks. If a dog is obviously well nourished, groomed, wearing a flea collar, and socialized enough to allow a stranger to pick them up, doesn’t it make sense that the dog belongs to someone?
My feel-good story about Olive has suddenly taken a dark and cynical turn, so I’ll stop ranting now and just wish everyone a happy weekend. Especially Olive.