Athena lives in topsy-turvy world. Currently, she is on-leash in her own yard, but off-leash at the park. The allure of a neighbor's compost pile is making it difficult for her to remember the boundaries of her own yard, so we're working on that. Wandering on her part makes me very nervous. So I could imagine how another dog owner felt yesterday morning when an older yellow lab appeared in my yard around 5:30 am. I went outside to investigate, and found him to be cold and wet, but very friendly. He had a tag on his collar with a name and phone number in a neighboring town, so I introduced myself and invited "Packy" inside and dried him off and gave him some breakfast before calling the number on his tag. Athena was a little nervous about the sudden arrival, but seemed enthusiastic about welcoming a potential playmate.
The phone number on the tag had been disconnected, so it turned out it wasn't going to be as easy to find Packy's home as I'd thought. I called our local police department, to inquire if someone had reported a dog missing, but no leads there. I called the next town over, as the tag indicated the owner lived in South Portland, but nothing there either.
Then I turned to the internet. I did a reverse look-up for the phone number on the tag, and got the name on the tag with an address in South Portland. Google Maps gave me the directions, and even though I was pretty certain Packy could not have wandered so far and over so many busy streets to end up in my yard, we headed for the address.
The "Beware of Dog" signs in the windows of the house at the address from the internet did not give me confidence. There was absolutely nothing to beware about Packy. He is a true-to-his-breed "be my best friend" labrador. As I knocked on the door, a fiesty dachsund was the reason for the sign, and luckily, the homeowner was up early. It was not, however, Packy's owner. He thought for a minute, and said he thought Packy must belong to the people who had lived there before him, and maybe he had a phone number for them. He gave me the number and I thanked him for his early morning help.
I called the phone number on the slip of paper, and a man answered. I explained that I'd found a yellow lab. He gave me directions to his house, which in the end, was so close to our house that we'd passed it twice already in our search for Packy's home. Packy's owner was waiting outside when we pulled into the driveway, and Packy jumped out of the car and did the happy labrador dance-- you know the one: all wiggling and tail wagging. The owner explained that he'd let Packy out last night, and that every once in a while he wanders off. "Oh I know exactly what you mean", I replied. I'm sure Packy was lured by that same rotten compost pile. It is like the Sirens to the sailors in the Odyessy (or is it the Iliad...), or chocolate in the cupboard to me. So our adventure had a happy ending, and in time for us to be at the park with Athena by 7am! .
above, Packy, looking for his house
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