This is not the real Saleah. It is another dog that looks like Saleah and a rather pensive looking pooch at that.
There is a little good news to report on this cool and windy Wednesday. Saleah, a rambunctious chocolate lab, is back home with its family after its big adventure in Mr. EFD’s neighborhood.
I was out for a walk this morning when I found Saleah. I had just encountered the grouchy, shaggy, black dog that hangs out on Sixth Street. That mutt had barked at a safe distance (for the dog, it really is a bit of a wus)from me and each time it barked I would reply: “Shut up!” It didn’t listen to me of course. Just down the street I spotted this pretty chocolate lab looking at me. It was wagging its tail and then came running toward me and jumped up on me repeatedly as if it expected me to lead it in a tango.
This pooch had a collar and tags. But I had a Charles Dickens of a time getting it to sit still. I finally ordered it to “sit” and “stay” long enough to find a phone number on the tags. Good fortune raised its head a tad more in that I was able to actually read the phone number without my glasses, which I do not carry on my daily walks. I called the number. But got a recording.
I really wasn’t sure what to do with this dog. I told the recording that I would try to get the dog to come home with me so the people with whom it was associated could pick it up. The dog was following me when it wasn’t running at various shadows and peeing on every third bush.
We got to some kind of office and this woman had pulled up with an elderly woman in a van. They appeared to expect me to control my dog, which I tried to explain through rolled up windows that it wasn’t my dog. I suppose the woman driving was a bit leery because I had on a black sweatshirt with a hood and was wearing sunglasses, and was perhaps appearing a little too much like that police sketch of the Unabomber. I got the dog to come along though.
Fortunately, Saleah’s friend called me back in a couple of minutes. He said that he was just leaving work and could meet me at the intersection of North and Seventh streets in about five minutes. And he told me the dog’s name was Saleah, which I could see on the tags but didn’t know how to pronounce it.
It was rather difficult getting Saleah to stay but the fellow showed up and thus united were a boy and his dog. You may now wipe your eyes and blow your nose.
When I was younger I was in kind of a weird denial about feeling good when performing benevolent acts. It’s a rather complicated issue and I will not delve into it here. But at some point in time I felt it was okay to feel good about such deeds. You can feel all warm and tingly while helping out someone or something. A license for a little taste of selfishness. Heck of deal! So reuniting Saleah and its dude made my day. In the words of that great prophet James Brown: “I feel good.”