Tobie meets a dobie…

Yesterday I spent half the day at the big town about 50 miles away, most of that time spent hanging around a Lowe’s waiting for my ride to return. As mentioned yesterday I brought back a dorm fridge but the main reason for the trip…

…was this. Three years ago I got a second-hand washer from a neighbor, and everybody knows that when you get somebody else’s castoff washer you’re just buying time. They had some reason for wanting to expensively replace that machine, and it was probably a good one. Happily, that one got me through to a point where replacing it with a new machine was financially possible, if still something of a logistical challenge. So that happened yesterday, and then this morning I started hauling the old machine out of Ian’s Cave. Now the utility closet where the washer goes is as far back in the cave as it is physically possible to go: Not only all the way to the rear but all the way down a semicircular corridor made narrow by a bunch of storage shelves so working the old machine out of its space was a time-consuming and persnickety task. And I was mostly done with it when I heard a (my?) dog make a very uncharacteristic yipping noise. I went right up to the front, where I had left the door open, and instead of Tobie I found…

…her. Yes, a small very female doberman. Friendly as can be toward me – not so much toward Tobie, who as far as I could tell was just trying to be friendly.

Now, I have opinions about domestic dogs being allowed to run loose. Well-founded opinions. But I also strongly believe that your property is your business until you make it my business so I mostly keep my opinions to myself but when your dog shows up on my (or Ian’s) doorstep they’ve just sort of made themselves my business. This was a beautiful, obviously well cared-for and very friendly little dog and I wanted to see to it that she got home safe. But as usual, there was no tag. So I called Neighbor L (of S&L, not D&L) to ask if she knew anybody who owned a small female and from the looks of her recently pregnant Doberman – and as it happens she did. Because another neighbor had recently had this dog and the rest of her pack show up in his yard, and she had gotten involved with getting them home that time too. She contacted the owner, and while complex things went on in the background I was left standing in Ian’s yard with this excited little Dobie on a leash. At about that time another Dobie showed up: This one a big unfixed male. He didn’t want to be my friend but he was clearly concerned that the little female was on the wrong end of a leash held by this strange old beardo. As the morning dragged on it turned out that the runaway pack consisted of the big male, the little female, and their three recently-weaned puppies, all just out for a jaunt. Why she decided to detour into Ian’s Cave, I really don’t know.

Anyway, it seems this isn’t the first time they’ve pulled this, and since the lady who owns them can’t afford to build a proper run it won’t be the last. The dogs weren’t doing any harm but there are dangers to them and now I have to worry even though it’s none of my business.

Let it be said that Tobie was a complete gentleman through the whole thing, though I’m glad I got him back to the cabin before the big male showed up. Also…

My laundry is caught up. An hour behind schedule, but still done.