"I must do something" always solves more problems than "Something must be done."
Last night my friend Deb came to visit. She always laughs because she says whenever she comes over, there is always some sort of excitement and drama that surrounds her visit. One time there was a prostitution bust right in front of our house, another time it was homeless cats vying (very loudly) for our front yard as new territory, police cars not-so-randomly driving by or parked in surveillance down the street, an ambulance arriving at a neighbors house, chasing someone's dog that's on the loose and sometimes it's just ventings of our own personal dramas.
So last night, when Deb arrived, my first thought was, we needed a mission and I had just the idea for one. We would go undercover in the hood and do some investigating for a non-profit I volunteer for that rescues chained dogs. She agreed full-heartedly to my mission and off we went, well, almost. Logic was beyond us in our hurried excitement so luckily Warren suggested we bring one of our dogs with us. We chose to bring Tahoe, our scrappy little brown dog and ultimate protector, not to mention he is Deb's personal favorite of our three amigos.
As we arrived near the neighborhood we fondly call 'felony flats', I went over the steps of our mission. Act like we were just out on a walk with our dog. Find the suspect house that has the chained dog. Gather the dog's general health, situation and location. Do not interact with the household members. If I can, snap a picture as evidence. Man, I should have been a PI. This is thrilling fun!
It was getting dark as it does this time of year, but we took Tahoe and started walking the hood. A large and luckily fenced dog came rushing at us, barking and alerting everyone we were not from around here. Geesh, dog, please, we are doing a good deed here. Quiet now! On we walked, further and further away from our escape vehicle. I wasn't really all that scared because Tahoe will very impolitely eat anyone or anything that attempts to mess with us. Plus, I am here and undercover for the sake of a dog who is being chained and mistreated. Need I say more. We passed by this house surrounded by chain link fence. The only thing that drew me to look it's way was the flashes of light coming from the other side of the house that seemed to light up the night sky. That's when I saw it, the dog house. I knew it was the right house as you do with these kinds of instinctual things. But I couldn't see the dog, yet, so we walked passed the house and down the street before we turned back around to get a better look. As we approached the house again, I was able to see who was possibly one of the occupants. A large, no, let's say very large Samoan looking man working under his attached garage. He looked up momentarily at us but without giving us a second thought, went back to his work. Phew! Close call. No blown cover just yet.
As we rounded the other side of the house, I gave Deb the leash and she walked slightly ahead with Tahoe. I walked slowly up to the fence to view the dog house. That's when I saw the chain. I followed the length of the chain for a few feet to find myself looking straight into the eyes of a little black puppy sitting atop a mess of white fuzz of what appeared to once have been his dog bed. He didn't bark and I didn't make any attempt to communicate. I had to get a picture. I snapped a couple of pictures and then I sent him message from my mind to his - I am here to help you. You will be rescued. Don't lose hope. Then I glanced around me to be sure all was safe and slid off into the night to meet up with Deb and Tahoe. Luckily she was thinking straight and asked me to 'take another picture of them', so I did. Good call on her part. That way if anyone saw the flashes they would think we were just taking pictures of each other.
Mission accomplished we walked quickly but as normally as we could back to the car. Once safely inside the confines of locked doors and rolled-up windows, we breathed a sigh of relief. Deb thanked me for another adventurous visit and I thanked her for obliging to be my accomplice on this undercover assignment. I had to go report my findings now and we parted ways for the evening. Although I did feel a lot like a kid playing Nancy Drew, there was a more serious side to this - a motivation and compassion of the heart to be one of the many hands helping to save these innocent dogs. I can guarantee you I'd do it again in a heartbeat.