So last night something weird happened....
I took Disco outside to go potty before we went to bed. While we were walking around, I noticed an unleashed dog wandering around in the same area of grass as Disco was supposed to be going potty. I payed no notice and assumed the owner was around somewhere. Disco continued to smell every inch of grass, dirt, and rock and not go potty as I continued to hope he would go potty and kept my eye on the other dog. Eventually we caught up to the dog and I let him and Disco play. I scoped out his tags and noted that this dog had the unfortunate name of "Raider," and there was a phone number on his tag. Disco and Raider played for quite a while, and no owner showed up. I decided to go get my phone and call the owner.
I went up to our apartment and retrieved my phone and my husband, and we went back down to call the dog's owner. Here is an approximate reproduction of my conversation with the person who answered the number I called:
Person on the other line, sounding sleepy: ...hello....
Me: Hi, I think I found your dog.
Me: Umm....do you have a brown dog named Raider??
Sleepy person: Yes.
::pause while I expectantly waited for some sort of inquiry or sign that this person was interested in this conversation::
Me: I think I found him outside at Broadstone Apartments.
Person, no longer sleepy, just indifferent: Well actually he's not really brown, he's brown and black.
Me:Well it's dark, I can't really tell exactly, but is your dog's name Raider?
Me: Ok, I have your dog. Do you live at Broadstone?
Me, getting a little frustrated with this person's lack of conversation skills: Ok, well would you like to tell me where you live so you can get your dog back?
Me: Ummmmmmmmm do you want your dog back?
Person: No, you can keep him.
Me, in disbelief: Why don't you want your dog back?????
Person: Because I'm only 12 years old.
Me: Is this your phone or your parent's phone?
Me: Don't you think your parents will be upset if you don't get your dog back?
Person: No, we found him and apiejk fasd; jfwuraj kja;fsdkljfasdkf uriuew jfdakjjiw bbjaksls;;qq (not sure what he said, but it didn't make sense)
At that point, our conversation was ended as this sweet, animal loving little 12 year old hung up on me.
Micah and I spent a few minutes debating as to what we should do with this dog, ascertained whether or not the dog was male or female and if he had been fixed, and debated if we could or could not manage another dog in the family (that's a negative). When we had finally decided that we would keep him for the night and call the Humane Society/Animal Shelter/whatever in the morning, a young couple appeared in the distance. For a moment I hoped that somehow they were the owners of this dog, as I was not looking forward to keeping an animal which may or may not use my carpet as a toilet all night, but was immediately disappointed when the couple saw the dog and didn't react at all. Just in case, I asked them, "Is this your dog?"
The female, dressed in a TEENY WEENY bikini (why? I do not know! It was about 11PM and her male counterpart was dressed in normal clothes and they did not appear to have been swimming or engaging in other water sports), stayed quiet, but the male answered, "Yes, come here Raider! Sorry about that, *she* got out."
I replied, "It's okay, but just so you know, I think the number on his tag may be wrong..." and proceeded to tell him an abbreviated story of my phone call.
The male got VERY defensive: "No, really, it's my dog, I'm sorry, she just got out....look I'll show you my driver's license."
Me: No, it's okay, I believe you...I just wanted to let you know in case the number was wrong.
Male, pulling out his wallet: No, really, I want to show you...she really is my dog.
Me: It's okay, I trust you.
I looked at his driver's license and sure enough, his last name matched Raider's last name on his collar.
We parted ways, and I presume the scantily clad female went on to her photo shoot for Victoria's Secret or something; meanwhile, Micah and I discussed all the weird things about this event, which I will recap.
1. The phone call of course
2. Why didn't Raider's owners seem more interested in retriving their run away dog? They didn't seem to care at all until I asked them.
3. Poor Raider may be a little gender confused. You see, Micah and I both verified upon physical examination that Raider was clearly A BOY!!!!!!! Yet Micah and I both heard his owner called him a GIRL several times! Whhhaatttt????? I know people get other dogs' genders confused, but most people can keep their own dog's gender straight!!
Some people are weird....