A Happy Ending.

Well, we had another "situation" yesterday that threw our schedule off a little bit.

Day two of the Canada Day long weekend here. So, still really busy, another nice day, beach is packed with day use users, campground full, pancake breakfast at the restaurant, people renting canoes and paddle boats. You know, just enough to keep us busy. (So busy that we never took any photos!)

I did get caught up enough in the middle of the afternoon to go inside and relax for a half an hour. I actually snoozed on the couch for maybe 20 minutes.

When I hear Ruth at our door with a bit of a panicky voice saying "Kevin, get a rope or something, quickly!"

A rope? Had she had enough of cleaning the washrooms and she was going to hang herself? I could sense the urgency so of course I was up right away and throwing my shoes on. I open the door and here's Ruth holding on to this huge black dog...no collar, no tags, no nothing. Just a big black dog out taking himself for a walk through our campground.

Obviously we can't have that, and this guy was a little hard to control with no collar! So Ruth was struggling a little and I ran to the shed to find something to put around his neck.

He was friendly enough, in fact he seemed to take to me right away. It was fairly hot out and his big sloppy wet tongue was flopping around so Ruth got him a bowl of water. I went to the shade with him and he lay down right beside me.

But, he did NOT like having a rope tied to him. I tied him to a tree in our yard and he was squirming and yipping a bit. And kind of had a panic look on his face. The poor guy. Never a bark out of him though.

So, couldn't leave him like that. But, what to do with him? We had wood deliveries to make, and trash to collect. Hmm.

Well, first Ruth went and reported him to the office and asked what our options were. We are out in the country and there's no bylaw officer or dog catcher to report him to. There's an SPCA in Prince Albert, but apparently they won't take stray animals unless you live there. We're not positive on that policy, but either way we wouldn't be able to make the drive into town until Tuesday at the earliest. The only other option is to call the authorities from the Indian reserve and drop him off there. The consensus opinion was that they would shoot him. Seriously? Yep.

Well, we had work to do. We wondered, would he come in the truck with us while we did our rounds? So he hopped in, and sat right down on the passenger seat. Umm, that seat is for Ruth! This guy weighed a good hundred pounds and it was tough getting him into the rear seats of our extended cab pickup truck. But we did.

So off we went up to the wood compound. It's gated and locked, and while we were getting wood it occurred that this would be a great place to keep him for the time being. So that's where we left him. The compound is beside our overflow camping area, and we spoke to the people camped nearest to him and asked them if they would mind coming down and letting us know if he barked or caused a problem at all.

About a half hour later, my radio rang and it was the office saying that "our" dog was loose in the overflow area and was bothering the campers. Aw, man! This is getting frustrating!

Up to the overflow, and this big goofy dog is sitting with a group of campers. Happy as can be. Like most dogs, he's pretty smart and dug himself just enough of an opening below the gate to be able to squirm under it. The campers aren't upset. Like I said, he's friendly enough, but he is a bit intimidating and they didn't want him near their little dogs. I explained the situation, and they shared my frustration. We did not need this responsibility!

I got him into the truck again. This time, I brought him down to my lawnmower shed, removed a couple of pieces of equipment, and locked him up. Not an ideal spot for him, but at least he couldn't go anywhere. Still, not a bark out of him.

So we went about our business, mentioning to everybody we saw that we've got this stray dog.

Finishing up doing our evening trash pickup, and one of the campers comes up to us and says she spoke to a local who just happened to be here and he thinks he knows who's dog it is. She brought us to this guy, and we described the dog and now he's pretty much positive that it belongs to a farm about 4 kms (2.5 miles) from here. Thankfully, he volunteers to bring him home if it turns out that he is the one he thinks he is! Yes!!

So I'm coming back down the hill, and I see these two ladies, and they've got "our" dog on a piece of rope. I stop and talk to them. It turns out, the people from that farm are actually camping at our campground for the weekend. It's their dog, and he's followed them here!!

The dog is "Frankie", and he's never been on a leash nor had a collar around his neck his whole life. He's a farm dog.

We had a chat and wondered aloud about how amazing it is that dogs can find their owners. I mentioned about not wanting to bring him to the Indian reserve authorities because they would shoot him.

"Not after I just spent $200 getting him castrated, they're sure as hell not going to shoot him!" says the lady. Too funny.

And so Frankie the dog is happy, and so are we.

Edit: Frankie was back again this morning!!!

Frankie and Kevin.

Don't forget, tomorrow (Tuesday) morning is our special giveaway.

Ten of our readers are going to win! See our post here for the details, plus I'll do another reminder later today.