Dognappers!

On Monday afternoon, my new coworker (L) and I took a trip to Southie to drop off some donated computers at the Boys and Girls Club there.

(Altruism + field trip = sign me up!)

Driving a cargo van through Southie is not exactly easy, but we managed to find our way around the double parkers and nobody slashed our tires. I only got us lost about 3 or 4 times. I guess you could say that it was a pretty successful trip. The new Tech Director at the club sure seemed happy. And my boss was happy that we came back without 7 old computers and with all of our hubcaps.

On the way back, L spotted a dog. This would not be so unusual, but he was running around without a leash. Or an owner in sight. Seeing as how we’re both bleeding-heart dog lovers, we felt the need to stop and investigate. In our sketchy work van. Down by the river. It was like we were in the world’s most cliched SNL sketch.

We tried to call the dog, but he apparently thinks that “come here boy!” means “run in the opposite direction boy!” Excellently trained, he was. So, we stalked him down a residential street as he wandered back and forth across the road, peeing on everything that looked like it could use some extra urine on it. Which was pretty much everything. I started walking briskly towards him and he didn’t pick up the pace. So I started jogging a bit. He was too busy peeing to run away. So I started running, an out and out sprint. Honestly? I’m surprised that I can still run like that at all, even if it was just for a block or so.

I caught up to the dog and then thought, “now what?” Chasing down a dog is great in theory, but once you actually catch up to him you actually have to do something. Like, not let him bite you and give you rabies. Or pee on you.

I edged up to him and slowly put out my hand. I asked him if he was friendly, because everyone knows that mean dogs can talk. His body language seemed pretty passive, so I edged in closer. And then, slowly, very slowly, I put my hand on his collar. Clearly, he didn’t maul me, or I would be posting this from a hospital bed.

I walked him over to the van and we threw him in the back. Surprisingly, nobody called the cops on us. We didn’t know what to do at that point, so I drove over to our vet to see if he had a chip. Not only was he chipped, the vet tech recognized him immediately. Apparently Knight gets out a lot. He roams around and often ends up on their doorstep. I don’t even want to know how crappy his life is if running away to the place where they stick him with needles is his idea of a good time. We’d found him a mile or so away, so he’d gotten pretty far on his own. The owner didn’t even realize he was gone until his wife called him.

L and I came to a mutual agreement that, if we find him again, he’s not going back. He can come live in our office.