When Tom came home from work on Thursday, Day One, there was a little Shitzu scratching at the sliding glass door. Tom tied a length of rope to its tagless collar, intent on walking up and down the street in search of someone in search of a lost Shitzu. He led the trusting little dog off the deck. It fell down the stairs.
Turned out, it was a blind Shitzu.
The search for a search party was fruitless. Tom made a little bed for the blind Shitzu in the basement. We called the cops. We found out the pound only opened at 11am Friday (Day Two), but then we got a tip from the Eisenhorn's across the street. They're animal lovers and gave us some dogfood, a large dog cage, a small dog carrier and the backline to the pound.
Norma the dogcatcher answered our call at 8am, Day Two. She said to bring the blind Shitzu down there within a half an hour.
Tom tied the rope to the Shitzu's collar. The happy little dog hopped around and wagged its tail excitedly. It would get to ride in the car. To the pound. I felt terrible.
Later, Day Two, we got a flower and card from the blind Shitzu's rightful owners. The Blind Shitzu had managed to cover a lot of ground during his evening of mischief. He'd wandered probably a half a mile uphill. His name is Lucky and he's fifteen years old.