Walking my dog today, running to catch the green light across the major intersection by my house, a Yorkshire Terrier poofed into existence.
Yes, poofed.
One second it was just my dog and I-- and the next there was this little brown furry thing bouncing along beside us. I really have no idea where it came from, but it took an immediate liking to my dog. They sniffed, they barked, they wagged tails. It was puppy love at first sight-- but the owner was missing.
I looked everywhere for someone with a leash, a look of amusement, or even an unsightly little plastic bag, but the streets were empty-- this puppy was following me down the sidewalk, ready to elope with my pet at that very instant, but I had no idea where it lived or who it belonged to.
I continued walking, pausing at every tree, every bush, and every fire hydrant. There had to be someone around somewhere.
Then I came across a family sitting outside on their porch.
"Excuse me, do you know if anyone on this street owns a little Yorkie?"
"I don't know what a Yorkie is, sorry?" the man replied, getting up from his seat.
The little dog had run into the neighbour's backyard.
"A little brown dog with pointed ears," I said, "it just ran into their backyard." I pointed to the white house next door.
"Oh, well, I know that they own a dog, but I'm not sure if it's the one you're talking about," he said.
"Ok, well, thank you anyway. I'm just worried about the little guy."
I smiled, and continued on my way, trying to ease my fears by telling myself that the puppy probably belonged to whoever lived in the neighbour's house-- why else would it have run into their backyard?
My dog and I continued down the street, crossing over into the park around the corner. Gallantly trotting, tongue out, my dog was pleased to find himself nearly home-- when a woman ran up to us.
"Sorry, have you seen a little brown dog?"
I couldn't believe it.
"A Yorkshire Terrier?"
"Yes!"
I told her I'd just seen it on the street adjoining the park, and offered to meet her there to look for it.
"Oh my goodness, thank you so much!" she exclaimed, running for her parked purple car.
I turned on my heel and bolted back to the street-- my dog, if anything, would bring the Yorkie back out of the neighbour's backyard.
I made it just as the car pulled up, and pointed to the white house. The woman got out of her car and called to the puppy-- garnering the family's attention that I had just talked to.
As my dog and I walked closer to the house, sure enough, the little Yorkshire Terrier came running around the corner, first towards us, and then towards it's owner. It was even bouncier than the first time I'd seen it-- full of kisses for the woman, and tail wags for my dog.
The woman picked it up and ran back over to me.
"Thank you SO much!" she said. "We'd given him away a few days ago, because the upkeep is hard, you know? But we couldn't bear it anymore, so we took him back, and he's just been a little different since. My son didn't lock the door properly this afternoon, and he got out... Thank you SO, SO much!"
She turned back to her dog and smiled at it.
"I love you, you know?" she said as it perked its ears. "I really, really do."
She smiled and thanked me one more time, and then returned to her car to head home.
I looked at my dog. There really wasn't anything better that could have happened to us all day.
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