Boxers and Lethal Injections

Yesterday Naomi and I were ready to head off to Deidrich's Coffee (yes yes, even though I work for *bucks, I'm a traitor, get over it) and we saw a dog come trotting around the corner. He barked once and then ran up to us to be petted liberally. It was a boxer with a big black spike collar on. He was pretty much just a puppy though he probably weighed 65lbs. Suddenly our patriarchal instincts kicked in and we needed to save this dog. He had no tag, so no way to find out where he lived.

I walked him to where he came from but he was just interested in running up to everyone he saw to be petted. No clues.

We called animal control and told them I would be home around 1pm so they could come pick up the dog. About an hour or so later I realized that they would kill the dog if he wasn't picked up, so I turned on animal control and decided to lie to them and say we found the owner.

When animal control got to my house I had a sudden attack of conscience and couldn't lie. Instead I put myself on third call, so they will let me know if they are about to kill the dog and I can go pick him up instead.

Wow, that was a boring story. Sorry.