Doing What's Right
3 years ago, we moved into a new place and found a cat in the parking lot, limping severely and malnourished. He had no collar so we assumed he was stray and took him to a vet, then placed him with our friend brig.

A week later, we saw posters looking for the cat, who was named Tigger and had always limped severely. He had been an indoor cat until the wife got pregnant. Worried about toxoplasmosis, they threw him outside full time, which is why it took them a week to notice he was missing.

We did "the right thing" and got Tigger's people in touch with brig. The cat came back from living indoors and returned to his outdoor life.

I've always regretted that decision. Even though Tigger 'belonged' to those people, that doesn't mean they're allowed to neglect him as they were doing.

Fast-forward to our most recent foster, Gus. We saw him at the shelter almost 2 months ago, laying down on a blanket and shaking like a leaf. He's big, he's old, they thought he was very sick and he would most certainly have been put to sleep, so when his legally-required 5 day (because he was found without any collar or ID) stray hold was up, we took him in.

Covered in fleas, 15-20 lbs underweight, with a mouthful of worn down teeth thanks to a lifetime being covered in fleas, Gus came, shaking and scared yet warily trusting us, to our home. He was not housebroken and it took lots of effort to rid him of the fleas. He's fallen in love with Rainie and loves to play with toys and sleep on the couch (until recently, we didn't have a doggie bed big enough for him since our whole lives were beagle/basset sized). We'd decided that for him to get placed, it would have to be in a better situation than we could offer, otherwise he stays.

Well, on a whim this weekend, we looked in the lost and found book for his owner and there was a match, a very elderly woman who didn't know how old he is or how much he weighed (she listed 100 pounds, he was 79 when we got him). We called her and she was so deaf I had to shout, even then she didn't understand what I was saying. I got some kid on the phone who "took care of him sometimes". The kid tells me that Gus lives in their yard and would return to the backyard, even though winter and the rains are setting in. I had to ask if they wanted him back, the kid said he didn't know.

If someone had Alice, Zeus or Rainie for all this time then called me, I'd be over at their house to get her, reward check in hand before I'd hung up the phone.

This time, I'm doing the right thing for the animal. I hung up on those people after making it clear that we wanted to keep him. They're welcome to take me to court but there is no way, in good conscience I will return a sweet old dog to a life of neglect, to die outside, covered in fleas and grossly underweight, because it was the "right thing." Because it's not. I can only hope that deep in her heart, that old woman knows it too.

When we came home after all this drama, Gus was on the couch, looking out the window at us, saying "I'm home."

Yes, buddy you are, even if we have to fight for you, you're home.