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I’m not crying, you’re crying.
Last week we had quite a dog story.
Every day I see stories all over Facebook about missing dogs. It’s heartbreaking. And overwhelming.
And it’s very hard for me to ignore the facts on the table: There are more dogs than families who want to take them in. And the inevitable ending to that already sad story is they will end up in a shelter. And if the shelter is too crowded, and no new home is found, the dog will eventually be put sleep.
So I see these posts, or I see a random pooch just wandering around our neighborhood, and I want to save them all. I want to walk into my living room and trip over a half dozen dogs, and then get endlessly licked by a barrage of pups who couldn’t be more happy to see me.
But it’s just not realistic. We already have four humans and a dog living in a small Jerusalem apartment that feels smaller all the time. And as much as I want to help every single one, I’m instead stuck just feeling guilty that so many will go uncared for.
A New Member of Our Home
But every once in a while, some magic happens.
I saw that a dog was, in all appearance, abandoned in a dog park in Ramot (essentially the part of Jerusalem farthest from us). They were looking for someone who could take him into their home while we search for the owner or until we could find him a new home.
He looked so sweet and calm. And I was just itching to do something good. I wrote the one who posted and said if he could be brought to us, we’d be happy to take him in the meantime.
And within the next few hours, our house was a little more crowded. With a lot more fur everywhere.
And a whole lot more love to go around.
Complete Silence
This dog was quite impressive. We tried playing detective, trying to piece together his story.
He was well-trained. He wouldn’t go on our couch, despite the fact that Frank was there all the time. He responded to several basic commands, and seemed to understand things better in Hebrew.
He was extremely well-kempt, with clean fur and probably the cleanest teeth I’d ever seen on a dog. But some things were a little unusual. He wasn’t chipped or neutered, which are very standard practices most people will take care of the moment they adopt a dog.
Then there was how he was found. He had a collar, but no leash. If there were no collar, it would be safe to assume he was a stray. If there were a leash, it would indicate he ran away from his owner. But a collar and no leash seemed to point to abandonment.
Now this wasn’t our first rodeo with a missing dog. The last time we found a dog wandering around our neighborhood, with one Facebook post and within a measly thirty minutes, we brought the dog home to its owner. However, when we received our new friend it had already been two days since he was found. We and others posted on every Facebook or WhatsApp group we could think of, and after several days we hadn’t heard so much as a peep. Nothing.
I know if our Frankie ran away, we would be searching night and day, moving heaven and earth to find him.
But all we got here was silence.
A Possible New Home
More signs that someone had just left this beautiful creature to fend for himself, completely turning their back on a helpless animal.
With all these signs that our mission was going to quickly switch from finding the owner to finding a new home, we put out feelers. Someone who had lost their dog not long ago came by to visit and was more than happy to have a new pooch in their life, if no owner was found.
I consulted with everyone involved, and we decided we’d wait just a couple more days. It’s a scary thing to think of giving away a dog that someone somewhere misses and is crying about. But once the appropriate effort was made, there was nothing left to do but make sure the fella would be in a permanent loving environment.
The day arrived and all arrangements were made.
And then Devorah received a shocking message.
A Story of Abandonment
A fella named Zohar saw the pictures and recognized the dog immediately. But this wasn’t just some ordinary fella. He found this dog as a puppy a year and a half ago, along with his siblings, one of whom he was still raising to this day. He trained our dog. He raised him for the first six months of his life. And he found him his owner.
Zohar reached out to the owner to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the owner had an illness in the family and was contemplating giving up the dog. One day he was walking his dog, gave him some time off leash, and uncharacteristically, he ran. The guy just decided it wasn’t worth looking for his dog, so he abandoned him and went home to tell his family the dog ran away.
And man, Zohar was pissed.
But everything was clear now. We even knew the dog’s name: Gulliver. They called him Goolie, which he responded to gleefully.
A Dog Goes Home
Everything was fully confirmed that the owners did not want him back. Frankly, they didn’t deserve this special animal. So we made arrangements for the new owner to come by and pick up the newest addition to their household on Friday. But as an extra, our new friend Zohar wanted to come by and see his old friend.
We all convened at our house. Goolie went absolutely nuts when Zohar arrived.
And we all sat there together, hugging this fantastic animal. The one who raised him, the ones who were about to give him a home, and us, the ones who got him from point A to point B. Three separate groups of people who may have never crossed paths, sitting in our living room, brought together with one goal: Providing the best possible life for a very deserving dog.
I will never forget that day.
And I’m getting choked up just thinking about it.
