Remembering The Lost Black Dog At I67 And I69

I’m sorry I couldn’t catch you.

I’m sorry you were so afraid of me that you ran away; towards a heavily populated highway.

I don’t know your story and don’t know how you ended up in the grassy median area right off of I69 today. Were you dumped by someone? Did you run away from an abusive owner? Did you just sneak outside for a quick visit with the neighbor dog but got lost instead? Were you in the car with your owners and escape when they had a wreck? There’s so many reasons you could’ve been out there today; and I’ll never know the answer.

All I know is that when I put my right turn signal on to exit the off ramp, I hadn’t planned on seeing a beautiful shiny black pit bull looking at me.

As I slowed down and pulled on the left side, closest to you, the semi’s and other traffic whizzed by above, on the highway. Semi’s and other vehicles drove past me, probably looking at me carrying a leash and bag of treats, wondering what I was doing.

You saw me get out of my car. You saw me walk towards you slowly. You didn’t attempt to catch the treats I was throwing your way. My heart sank.

All I could imagine was two things: 1. you running through the tall grass to hide from me or 2. you running up towards the busy highway.

You chose the latter. Why?

I walked back to my car, feeling defeated.

I never saw you again despite driving around the area for 20 minutes or so. You were probably hunkered down in the grass watching me, waiting on me to leave.

You didn’t know I was there to help you and I’m so sorry.

You’re the second black dog I wasn’t able to save. The first was a friendly fella down in Georgia. I don’t remember the name of the city we were in, you see, we were driving through Georgia on our way to Disney. My daughter and granddaughter were with me and we stopped for gas.

As I pulled into the lot, I saw that dog standing in one of the parking spaces. A woman was getting out of her car in the spot directly next to him and I pulled up on the right side. I watched her. She acted like a monster was going to attack. He just stood there and watched her.

I talked softly to him, much like I would’ve talked to you had you gotten close enough to me.

The Georgia dog had soft eyes and a gentle spirit. His body bore the scars of either living on the street for awhile or worse, dog fighting. Georgia boy had a collar on, as did you, but his collar had a small piece of electric wire attached to it. I don’t know his story but I can assume he either broke free from the situation he lived in, or was turned loose.

Dozens of people walked by and watched me interact with that dog. I ran in the gas station real quick and asked if anyone knew the dog or knew who I could call for help. People looked at me like I was speaking Russian.

So I went back outside, got as many chips and things that I could find for him to eat and hand fed him. He was gentle and submissive.

Luckily a police man pulled in the lot and I walked over to him and told him about the black dog. He replied with, “Our animal shelter doesn’t work on the weekends.” I looked at him incredulously. Was he serious? I asked if there was an off-duty officer or something, he said no and drove away. Waiting for him to come back and realizing he wasn’t I walked back to the car and overheard my daughter saying, “Come on mom, we need to go.” I began crying. Crying because I didn’t want to leave the Georgia dog and crying because I failed him.

My mind was racing trying to find solutions.

Looking on facebook for animal rescue facilities in the area proved fruitless; as did twitter and google searches.

While all this was going on, the dog stood right outside my car door, patiently waiting.

As the tears fell, my daughter kept saying, “Let’s go, come on.” My granddaughter was watching me with big brown eyes, saying, “Grammy, wuh rong?”

I wish I could’ve taken him with us. We could’ve found an animal shelter so at least he wouldn’t be on the street. But the car was full of bags and my granddaughter was in the back seat. I couldn’t jeopardize her safety nor would I hear the end of it if I loaded him up in the car.

So I got out, told him I was sorry, rubbed down his back, scratched his ears and under his chin.  I looked around one last time for a good Samaritan, an answer of some type. I gave him my last barbecue chips and begrudgingly got back in the car.

Tears streamed down my face and I felt so helpless. As I began to exit the gas station lot, I saw a car with 4 younger men standing at one of the gas pumps. Two of them looked at me and one began to walk over to the dog.

I couldn’t go back to talk to those guys or help that dog. So I drove away. Like a coward.

In my heart of hearts I don’t want to think they picked up that dog and did something horrific with him, but honestly, that is what I believe. When I see a lone dog or cat, I want to help; others see a money making tool, bait animal or fight dog.

So I think about you now,  actually so many thoughts come to mind. I pray you made it to safety. I hope you didn’t end up like I think that Georgia dog ended up. I pray someone nice was able to wait you out and you’re warm, safe and loved. I pray you didn’t get killed on the highway or left there to suffer after being hit. I pray that if your family was in an accident, they’re safe and they look for you.

My heart is still heavy because of my inability to do more today. And I still feel remorse over the Georgia dog.

If you ever see a lone dog (or kitty) please don’t turn a blind eye. If you don’t feel safe enough to try and catch him, call the police, look on facebook for an animal shelter or rescue in the area. Look on google and pull up the city name and animal shelter or rescue. Call the places. Carry a leash and a slip lead, maybe even a muzzle. Keep an extra dog bowl you can put water or food in. Keep cat treats and dog treats in your car to help catch the lost babies. Keep a spare blanket just in case you need to wrap the animal up or lay it on your seat prior to putting the animal inside.

It’s horrible living with yourself knowing that you couldn’t do more but in the end, all we can do is all we can do, right? I can’t beat myself up over these two situations however sad I feel for the dogs. All I can do is move forward and try to help those that I can. I pray you do the same.

Saying a prayer for the lost dogs,

Kelley Stewart, CEO|Pet Sitter
sit-stay-play In-home pet sitting & more.LLC