the karma inititiave

this morning, i got up to walk the girls- thinking i would give them a good, long walk before work so that i could not worry about them later this afternoon. we walk down dahlia to 12th street, and turn right to walk past the park. i see a lively german shepherd mix running around off leash, close to a man who i assumed was his owner. the dog runs up next to a woman about to cross the street, and almost jumps on her but stays about six inches away. she yells 'ouch!' in the loudest voice possible, and then looks at the man and reprimands him for letting his dog run loose. the man apologizes coldly and says 'that's not my dog, lady' and keeps walking.

immediately, my dog-saving brain jumps into full gear. i am extremely conscious of the fact that jola has run away countless times- and been returned that many times as well, so i am very quick to want to save any kind of run away dogs... for one point, i believe what goes around comes around, so it's my due diligence to return the wonderful favors that have been given to me, and for two, i know the sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach when your dog is missing and you have no idea how to get her back or where she's gone. i cannot describe that feeling, and would not wish it to any loving dog owner.

so it begins: i bring my dogs over, they play a little with the german shepherd and i get close enough to read his blue Snoopy collar to see his name is Cojoe. The mean man from earlier comes back and lends me his cell phone, and we call both numbers on Cojoe's tags... at this point, jola had stopped to do her 'business', so it stinks; i'm with a mean stranger on his cell phone, i'm wearing my pajamas and a ski hat, and i've got two leashes with two crazy, barky dogs that are trying to play and growl and bite, and i'm trying to wrestle a somewhat large, possibly aggressive dog named Cojoe (which sounds remarkably like Kujo) with one hand. No luck with Cojoe's phone numbers: both are giving me weird messages that say i'm dialing wrong or the phone is no longer taking calls. The mean man (who obviously is actually somewhat nice since he's letting me, a complete stranger, use his phone) walks away.

at this point i am committed, so with Cojoe's collar in my left and both girls' leashes in my right, we move on to begin the two block journey home. this task proves more difficult than i had thought: my dogs are still in play mode, and still intrigued by the strange dog, as well as really still needing a walk- i mean ,we are litereally only two blocks from home, so they have gotten no exercise. in the other hand (literally)i have a super excited, escapee dog that wants to sniff and run and play and just enjoy the world, and i'm trying desperately to keep him by my side. yeah, right.

we walk on. Cojoe struggles free, and runs off to sniff the early morning smells of each yard. We follow a little more, and finally corner him between a fence and a garage. as i walk up with my dogs, to this strange dog, i realize that cornering a runaway, large, somewhat excited german sherpherd by approaching him with two unknown dogs and me, a scary pajama-clad stranger, is probably NOT the smartest thing to do. however, like i said, at this point i am committed. great news: the fight was small, i was not in the middle of it, and i end up with Cojoe in my left hand and the leashes/my dogs in my right.

please also keep in mind that this whole time i am trying desperately to keep myla in check of me, the Pack Leader (or Pack Idiot) by keeping her leash taught, and small. this means i am bending over to grab Cojoe's collar with my left hand, keeping myla and jola's leashes tied up tight in my right hand, using my extended right arm to push them as far away from Cojoe as possible, while using my body as a shield, all while walking bent over, in my bright red pajama pants, towards home. it was a sight to see, i'm sure.

we walk a block. Cojoe wrestles out of his collar, and i am left there standing with a Snoopy collar and two anxious dogs who, at this point, i am SURE are pissed at the way our morning has transpired. what am i to do NOW? even if i wanted to (and i sort of did) i could not leave Cojoe alone, without a collar. i could not take the collar home and find his owners and say, 'hey- your dog is running around the neighborhood but i have his collar!' so... i corral the beast again, and snap the collar on. again, throwing my body between the two nippy, growly and instigating dogs, i hobble my bent-over red pants home the remaining block and a half and get Cojoe inside the safety of the backyard.

at this point, the story becomes a little less exciting: the dogs fight a few more times, especially over a bone and the food. and when i say fight, i mean fighting where i actually fear for the lives of one of them, thinking there will be blood sooner than later. luckily, there was no blood, no lost lives, just hyped up dogs trying to claim terriotry and make sense of what's going on.

i get Cojoe into my car, and off to the Dumb Friends League we go. in the car, he is much more endearing, and less aggressive. even bordering on cute. he jumps from the trunk to the back seat to the front seat, and sits on the passenger seat, his nose right up against the windshield. he circles a few times, and after about ten minutes, lays down with his neck across the the console and his head in my lap. i fall immediately in love. without the provocation of myla and jola, this pup is amazingly beautiful and well behaved. i entertain the idea of keeping him, but know in reality that is the silliest idea i've literally ever had.

we arrive at the dumb friends league, and i walk him around while we wait for it to open. we walk in the open doors, i fill out some very simple paperwork and they tell me i am free to go. as i walk out, i turn to look at Cojoe and he looks at me as they take him to the back- he strains against his leash and pauses- his eyes lock with mine, and my heart melts. i already will miss him.

i hope you find your home, Cojoe.