You sure can see a lot of interesting things sitting out on your lovely old porch on Broadway. People have been urging me to take advantage of “wine country living” for several years now. “Oh Doctor Forsythe, if I lived in an old Victorian like you do, I’d be out there sitting on the porch every morning with my coffee” has been uttered to me on more than one occasion. I’ve even heard, “oh your old porch at the vet hospital would be the perfect place for a mint julep in the early evening as people stroll by with their pets!”
So last Sunday I did just what people have been yammering away at me to do for several years. I took a nice cup of coffee down in the morning and sat with my beloved bulldog, Twiggy, on the porch sofa and started watching people go by. It was relaxing, splendor in the wine country — for about 5 minutes.
I saw what appeared to be a young woman calling out to a pet that wasn’t in front of her. At first I wondered if she was delusional, or maybe she had a microphone in her ear and was rehearsing a speech. But then I realized that she was beckoning to a little stray white terrier that was running down Broadway darting in and out of traffic. A few moments later I found myself running down the street with her, and within five minutes I was in her father’s pickup truck in hot pursuit of this little mutt that had gone rogue.
Up Andrieux Street this little creature cruised, like Zola Bud in the Olympics –determined to get gold. Then it ran down past the hospital with sudden right turns and left turns through yards. Just when we would get close enough to think we had a chance to pick him up, the little thing took off again.
Finally, after crossing several major streets, the little dog slowed down and trapped himself on a porch off Fryer Creek Drive. As I slowly tried to wrangle the little guy into my “lasso” leash, the homeowner came out and offered kind words in gentle calming tones that made the situation manageable. I was able to pick the little dog up and pet him, comfort him, and take him back to the office to get some medical attention.
He appeared to be scared out of his wits, but in remarkably good shape for the stress he’d gone through. After scanning him revealed that hid did not have a microchip, he got some much needed rest and recuperation at my hospital before going into the hands of the folks at Pet’s Lifeline the following day.
I didn’t bother to go back to my porch to drink my coffee after this adventure was over. The coffee was cold by then, and the porch just didn’t look that inviting. But in looking back on that morning something really good happened because of that wonderful old porch in front of my hospital; I guess I was meant to be sitting there on that particular morning.