We found a dog Saturday. We also found a cat Saturday in a separate incident, but that's not as dramatic of a story.
Saturday was going to be a relaxing day. Steve and I jaunted over to the grocery store so I could buy him cookies. He really likes cookies. Since we had just purchased a wedding present for my friend, I didn't figure out until we were in line at the store that my wallet was still sitting on my couch at home. We left said groceries and ran home to get the wallet, and then back to the store. On the way back, there was a dog running through traffic that just about got hit. These are the events which followed:
K: THERE'S A DOG IN THE STREET! GO GET THE DOG!!!(Steve tumbles out of car while I am still driving to catch the dog)(Steve catches dog)(Katie finally pulls over and to put dog in the car)We caught a bonafide large slobber dog. After catching the dog, we drive by the pet store to get a leash. There's a tag on the dog but the number is disconnected and information doesn't bring anything up. Since going to an animal shelter wasn't an option (there was no way we were going
to bring an unneutered pitbull male to a kill-shelter) we took him to the vet since he had a cut foot and was pretty underweight.
5 hours and $350 later, we had ourselves a dog. We took him back to our condo, much to the dismay of our two cats, cleaned out the spare bedroom, and shacked up with the dog on our futon. I had the fun job of sleeping (well, not really sleeping, more like being spooned by a giant dog and staying awake) with the dog.
I had searched Craigslist for any missing pets, googled Scott Prichard, missing pitbulls, and everything else in the San Diego area. Nothing.
Before I can become extremely extremely attached to the dog (note that I was already extremely attached, although Steve warned me not to be) I decided to MySpace his name. There he was in all of his duechebag glory - Scott Prichard. A 30 year old comic book fan (but not the cool, hipster, comic book fan, the bonehead who has anger issues and can't read above a 2nd grade reading level so he has to read things with pictures kind of comic book fan), Scott Prichard was there right in front of me, and there was a picture of my dog on his stupid comments. I couldn't keep the dog. I had to at least write him and see if he wanted it back.
The dog had a foot infection, which he got while living with this scumface. He hadn't been neutered, and if the dog hadn't been ridiculously affectionate I would've called the shelter for animal abuse.
You'd think if you lost your dog you'd come right over to get it, excited that you were given a second chance. Not in this case. Scott Prichard showed up 45 minutes later, although he lived 6 blocks from our house. Then he asked to see a receipt for the vet bills. Seriously? We saved your darn dog. It has a foot infection. I'm giving it back. Are you really going to test my credibility? Then the dog got away while he was holding it. He ran after it. Then he came back so we could lecture him on the responsibilities of having a dog. Steve made sure to mention that if he didn't want to take care of it anymore we would be happy to.
Scott Prichard took my dog. Eff you Scott Prichard.
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