Freddie.
On Monday Ed called me on his way home from work and told me to meet him about 10 blocks from our house with a bowl of dog food and some water. While riding his bike home from work, he came across a dog who was so emaciated and weak that he could barely stand. The dog was wandering aimlessly, and while he had tags, none of them gave his name or address. I arrived, and let me tell you, this dog was in BAD shape. He had cataracts, his eyes were almost entirely crusted shut with goo, and he was dirty, shaking, and scared. The most noticeable thing was that this dog was completely starved. He was so skinny that he could barely stand. We were horrified. This was clearly a dog who had not been taken care of in quite some time. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the dog's nails were so long and unkept that his little paws couldn't properly hit the ground when he walked. His teeth were almost entirely rotten. It was the most horrible thing I have seen in a long while.
While I made my way to Ed, he called Animal Control. Upon learning this, I nearly flipped out. I knew that if Animal Control came, there was no way this dog would see happy relief from his pain and suffering. Mostly I was afraid that Animal Control would run the dog's city tags and give him right back to his owners. Clearly, this dog's owners were negligent to the point of abuse. Severe abuse.
Instead of waiting for animal control to come, Ed and I began packing up the dog to take him to the Humane Society. At least at the HS, the dog would see a vet and be surrounded by loving, caring people, no matter what. At some point while we were on the corner with this dog, an old, kooky man stopped by to tell us that he knew who owned this dog. He gave us the approximate location of this house, and his exact words were, "I don't know the exact address, but this house is about as well taken care of as this dog." Ed told the man that there was no way that the dog was going anywhere but to a vet, and in a matter of moments, we were driving towards the Humane Society, doggie wrapped lovingly in a blanket on my lap. He was a friendly, snuggly dog, which aleviated at least a bit of my anger and sadness. This dog may have been neglected and starved, but clearly he still trusted people - strangers, no less - so he probably had not been hit or beaten on top of the neglect and starvation.
We arrived at the Humane Society and a volunteer did the intake. He assured us that a vet had been called since it was after normal shelter hours and a vet was no longer on duty. We expressed serious concern over the dog's condition, and the volunteer told us about the animal welfare investigator who works for the HS. He said that if they deemed the dog's condition to a result of abuse and/or neglect, a welfare investigator would take on the case. I was so relieved. We also figued that clearly the owners were people who were either not willing or not capable of caring for a dog. We figured that when the HS called the family to tell them that they would have to pay to get the dog back, that would give them an "out," and with any luck they would leave the dog in the safety of the HS. Honestly, even if that dog had to be put down for his own sake, it gave me reassurance to know that he would pass peacefully in someone's arms, versus wandering starving and confused into the path of an oncoming car in his neighborhood.
We surrendered the pooch with a few tears on my part, and I promised I'd call the next day to get an update on his condition. What the Humane Society told me on Tuesday morning made my blood boil. The woman I talked to said that the owners had been contacted and they were set to pick up their dog. The Humane Society gave this dog back to the owners who let him deteriorate to the condition he was in when we found him. I was horrified. Horrified and angry and confused. I asked how on earth the dog could be going back to those people, and the woman responded, "the dog is old. He probably has arthritis." I was dumbfounded. Certainly this dog could have arthritis, and certainly he was old. But old and arthritic does not mean that a dog should be so skinny that you can count his ribs and vertabrae. And it doesn't mean that a person can't trim his nails and brush his teeth. I was so upset, but unfortunately, that was all the information the HS would give me.
Based on the description the old man gave Ed, we located the house where the dog supposedly lives. From the curb, I can tell you that this house is not fit for people or animals. It is awful. I went home and looked up the address on our county's property information search. The house is owned by the Office of Veterans Affairs, and is leased to a couple. That tells me that the dog's owners are likely elderly, and perhaps can't adequately care for themselves, much less a dog.
Now, here is my dilemma. My gut instinct upon hanging up with the HS was to file a complaint with them regarding the relinquishment of an abused animal back to its abusive owners, and then follow that up with a request for an animal welfare check from our county. After a few hours passed and my blood cooled a bit, it occurred to me that perhaps I should handle the situation in a bit more neighborly manner. Perhpas I should call or stop by the house and say, "hey, I'm the person who found your sweet little dog the other day. How is he feeling?" and then follow that up with an offer to help care for him if need be. Appeal to their humanity and offer some assistance (bathing, nail trimming, tooth brushing, a ride to the vet) if the owners are unable to carry out these necessities to keep their dog comfortable.
Then again, this is not my dog. Really, it's none of my business. But my heart breaks for this little guy. It breaks my heart to think that he might wander out of his yard again and get hit by a car or attacked by another dog. The old man who knew the dog said that he sees the dog wandering the neighborhood all the time. I can't stand the thought of this (or any) dog suffering.
So, what should I do, if anything? Should I file complaints and hope that the dog is rescued from this home? That seems like the most logical thing to do. But then again, if this is really just an old couple who can't take care of their dog, do I really want to put them through the suffering of the whole investigation, and then possibly have their dog taken away from them? Yes, but no. But do I really want to stick my nose into their house (literally or figuratively) and say, essentially, "You don't know me, but you suck and can't take care of your dog. Let me help." Yeah, condescending, and may well be ill-recieved, no matter how nicely I try to frame it. Maybe I should do nothing, knowing that I at least did something. But I just can't sit back and not do anything.
The irrational, crazy lady side of me wants to camp out in front of the house, wait for the dog to escape, and then dognap it, tossing away his ID tags, "What? This dog? No, he had no tags. He's a stray! Darn, I'll just have to keep him."
I hate this.