We moved from a somewhat rural area surrounded by civil war battlefields to an even more rural area surrounded by civil war battlefields. Many things come along with living in a more rural area. Huntin’ dogs hadn’t really come to mind.
Until a couple of weeks ago when a pack of dogs came pouncing through the area.. They were howling and baying and sounded like they were hot on the trail of something, most likely deer. The kids were quite interested in what the ruckus was outside. We didn’t think much about it until we were coming back from sushi with Trina that night to find a pair of eyes staring back at us from the road about a mile from house. At first we thought it was a deer, but it turned out to be her. A call to the number on the collar and she was quickly scooped up.
Later that night, we saw the same truck go up and down our street with an antenna sticking out the window, so I guess there were still some hounds loose.
A week after that, I was bringing Stella back from a vet visit. Almost at the same spot as the week before, another dog just standing in the middle of the street. I quickly pulled over, opened the back door, and he jumped right in. Stella was not happy. How dare I ask this stinky wet dirty dog to be in the same car with the Princess.The kids didn’t want anything to do with this smelly outsider. I met his owner and he was dumped in the back of an F-250 in the cold rain. He said he had been lost for a week and a half, and having lost his radio collar, couldn’t track him anymore. Said his name was Chester, and he was a worthless hunting’ dog, and wanted to know if I wanted to adopt him. I almost called Kris to see what she thought, but I knew if we did, we’d have people dropping off huntin’ dogs in our back yard at the end of every hunting season.