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When you are found by a basset, don't let go
by Joy Wilhide
My teenage daughter called us while we were on a trip and said there was a dog that had been hanging out for days by a friends house. Could we keep him? When we got home she brought him over. He was a skinny, funny. looking basset.
We took him to the pet store and bought food, bowls and a bed and had him checked out by the vet office which was in the store. We named him Max. He must have been on the lam for some time. He was thin and weak and could walk with us for only a block before he tired out.
We called every shelter in the area to see if anyone was looking for him and left notes at several pet stores. We took him to see several people who responded but he was not their missing pup.
We named him Max, it seemed to fit him well, and we fed him, walked him, and loved him back to health. He was a part of the family. After three months we got a call from a lady missing her dog named Skippy. My husband was the first one home that evening. When he walked in, he called out, "Skippy" and Max came running all excited. We had mixed emotions. We had all fallen in love with this little guy. We wanted him to stay.
The lady was out of town so her sister came to pick up Max (aka Skippy). His back story: He was given to the lady's husband as a companion dog, the man had cancer. After he passed away, the wife and two children had moved to a new home. They couldn't keep Skippy in the yard. He kept running away. It was very frustrating for them. It turned out the house where he had been hanging out near my daughter's friend's home was where this family had lived previously. Skippy was looking for his master.
We sadly packed him up with his bed and all the toys we had bought him into the lady's van and waved goodbye with tear-filled eyes.
About thirty minutes later we got a call. As the lady had driven off, Max had started howling and become upset. She called her sister and they talked it over. They thought Max was sad to be leaving us. They wanted to know if we wanted to keep him. Of course we did!
Max came back and lived with us in all of his wonderful Basset quirkiness for 8 more years when he passed away at the age of 12 from cancer. He was a great dog.
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