Freddie, Love
I learned today that Freddie died peacefully. My heart is sad. At the same time, my heart is relieved, and I feel at peace knowing that Freddie is at peace now. He's not suffering anymore. Rocco, Wally, and I have walked by his house so many times, just hoping to catch a glimpse of him, or scoop him up if he had escaped again. Now we won't worry, and Freddie won't be hurt or scared or sick or lost ever again.
The way that I found out what became of Freddie is quite a twist of fate. It's almost like I was meant to find out about Freddie. Tonight I was on my way to work at the shop when a large dog darted out in front of my car. I slammed on my brakes, barely missing the creature. The light at the intersection I was approaching turned red. I waited impatiently for the light to turn green, all the while watching the dog wander down the boulevard, edging dangerously close to another very busy street. Finally the light turned green, and I turned left and parked my car. I ran out (as best I could in heels) and chased the dog. I must have been quite a sight, hollering, "Puppy! Puppy! Come here!" It didn't take much to convince this dog to come to me. He was downright thrilled to have my attention. He jumped and licked and wagged. Poor dog didn't have a collar, so I had no idea where he came from or what to do with him. I called my coworker, a fellow animal lover. A few minutes later, this 90 pound "puppy" was riding in the back seat of my car, on his way to the shop.
We got to the shop, I gave the dog some water, and we considered our options. I decided to walk the pup down the street to a nearby vet clinic. Perhaps the dog had a micro chip ID, I thought. I suddenly realized that the vet I was walking to was Freddie's vet. There were two tags on Freddies collar when we found him - a vet clinic tag, and a city license tag. I took the pooch into the vet, where the vet techs were quick to scan him and tell me that he did not have a micro chip ID. Bummer.
Then I tried my luck. "Hey, I know you probably can't tell me anything...but...do you know a dog named Freddie?" I described Freddie to the vet techs, and they typed away on their computers, each trying to find the dog about whom I was inquiring. Nope, no Freddie. I was sad, because I was so hopeful that Freddie's owners had held to the promise they made to the Humane Society to get Freddie in to see his own vet. Then, one vet tech said quietly, "oh. Here he is. Um, yes. We cared for Freddie. " I knew then that he had been put down. I asked if he had been put to sleep, and the vet tech said that he had. She said that he was old and in pain and could no longer climb the stairs in his house. I felt a mixture of sadness and relief, both for Freddie and for me.
After learning of Freddie's passing, big, unidentified pooch and I headed out of the vet's office, back to the shop. Now what? My coworker and I brainstormed, and we decided to call animal control to see if anyone had reported a missing dog. I had no intention of surrendering this dog to animal control. Rather, we'd see to it that he was happy and safe until his owners could be found. In the meantime, I called Ed and asked him to walk the dog around the neighborhood to see if anyone might recognize him.
Ed hadn't been gone long when animal control said, "I think we know whose dog you have!" Sure enough, an 82 pound dog named Buddy had escaped from his yard earlier in the day. I called Ed on his cell phone and gave him the owner's address. I called the owner and let her know that I had found her dog, and that he was on his way home. Not ten minutes later, relieved dog owner and wandering dog were reunited.
A happy ending today for Buddy. A bittersweet ending for Freddie.
Thank you, Buddy, for sharing a few hours of your life with me. And thank you, Buddy, for bringing me to a place where I could find closure with Freddie.
Rest in peace, sweet Freddie.