I have been involved in rescue and fostering for almost 3 years and last night, well early morning was something I have never experienced. Donnie B, my Plott Hound foster, woke me around 330am because he had to pee and I harnessed him up and well took him out. My recycle bin is maxed out and they are not suppose to come until next week, but saw recycle bins out and decided Donnie and I was going to roll the bin around front. Yea, he doesn't like the noise as I found out (one of the downsides to fostering an abused dog) and slipped out of his harness and took off like a crackhead hound. I was barefoot, yes Southern and proud to not always wear shoes, and ran in to slip on flip flops and wake the roomie to help. Didn't want to wake Mom with her health conditions. I flew out the front door like I drank a 6-pack of Red Bull and had wings to find my foster. Let me back track and say, I had taken my sleepy meds, but was not feeling them because my foster crackhead was on the loose. I had the harness and leash in hand and was trying to catch my foster; however Donnie, with heart worms, decided to be an ASS and play not come when called even though he knows better. I was like a yard ape pounding the sidewalks with my hands and calling him because if I got close he ran away.
In the meantime, roomie grabbed my little Devil flashlight which is also a stun gun that packs a mean punch if you make contact. He knows this but it is now 4am-ish and was walking with it on his side and well shocked the holy crap out of his leg. LMAO! He now can't use his leg because he was stunned due to his own stunning self!.
Anyways back to Donnie and me tracking him, now I am the hound, and finally catching him and carrying 52 pounds of dead weight almost 3 miles. Here comes roomie, not on a white horse or wearing armour, but in a light blue Pontiac G-6 and helps me get Donnie in the car. When he pulled up, Donnie and I was laying in the grass because I was gassed and couldn't go much further. Roomie was the Pontiac in shining armour and we got him home and I was very thankful and rommie was pissed and filled with "grease lightening" and didn't want to Go-Go-Go, but to bed.
Mom is NOW AWAKE and wants to take Bella and Buster to pee and there goes Donnie again. Round 2 for the sphagetti armed hound, aka ME, and nowhere to be found. I came in after about 45mins of running and looking and could only cry and prepare my "Lost Dog" pleas with flyers and calling the shelter when they opened. As I am doing this I can see lights of cars passing by and my heart hit my feet each time. Something told me to look outside and there was Donnie B hanging out with an older guy and his older pit mix. Tears started to run down my face as I realized I can get him inside this time. Mom had to help because I had zero strength to lift him and we got him in together.
Funny part, is Sal was snippy to my Mom due to stunning himself and had few words to say. I was cursed out by Mom due to Sal being snippy and just found out he attacked himself with the "Little Devil". Bless him! I know he makes me mad, but I do have an awesome roommate and happy this story has a happy ending.
