She was brought into the vet's office 2 weeks ago by a good samaritan who found her wandering the streets with a big gash on her leg.
She was frightened, but friendly. She was micro-chipped, but the phone number on the chip no longer belonged to her owner.
James Herriot, the loving country vet who wrote about his adventures caring for pets and their owners in the Yorkshire countryside.
Truth be told, they don't all truly care about the well-being of animals or about uniting lost pets with their owners.
Their office staff are instructed to mirror these principles of dollars over decency.
I say this because there was an address and a name attached to Casey's microchip, but when the phone number wasn't good, the staff did not spend anymore time on finding Casey's owner.
They also could not treat her injury because there was no one to pay the bill. Casey would be sent to the local animal shelter and because she was injured, she would be put down. Casey is 10 months old.
So, I get the call from my daughter. I'm compelled to explain that she is a kennel-worker there, which is the lowest of the veterinarian office heirarchy. She cleans poo and feeds and walks dogs, so has nil say in any goings on there. She isn't allowed to access files or computers so she did what kids do when they need help. She called mom.
Honestly, my daughter wanted Casey more than she wanted to find the owner. Casey had grown on her. She had an injured leg, was quarantined from the other dogs because she was a stray, but was still happy and playful every time my daughter went to feed or walk her.
When life gives you kennel, make kennelaide. The vet was getting impatient though, since dog food costs money, and a decision had to be made about Casey quickly. I told them to fix her leg and we would take her. Thank goodness for employee discounts, or the bill would have been over $500.00.
Then I realized that, thanks to the internet, there are other ways to track a person down besides a phone number. I had my daughter give me the name and address of the person listed on the microchip and did a little detective work.
I looked up the address in county records and found that it was still owned by the person listed on the chip. I googled the name. It was a hyphenated last name, so I had to play around with it. Bingo.
The owner had a Facebook page. And she had over 300 friends. I have like, 30.
24 hours went by and she didn't call. Meanwhile, the vet had stiched Casey's leg and she was recovering fine. My daughter was ecstatic because it looked like we could take Casey home.
Then the owner called the vet.
She never showed up. She called the office on a Tuesday, and by Friday, still hadn't come to claim Casey. The vet's staff called numerous times (because now there was a bill that needed to be paid) but no one came.
But Casey settled right in. The third night, she slept in my daughter's room and at 6 in the morning they both bounded into our bedroom and my daughter announced excitedly that Casey had whined when she had to go outside to pee so the potty training was going well.
Me: (in my high pitched annoying voice reserved for puppies and babys) Good girl Casey, good girl! Did you go potty outside? Potty outside? Good girl!!
Hubby: Is this how it's going to be every morning?
Me: (still in my high pitched annoying voice reserved for puppies and babys) Honey, Casey went potty outside, she went potty outside, honey!!
Hubby: Why are you talking to me like that?
Me: (still with the voice) Cause she went potty outside, honey! Casey's a good girl!
(Casey now is very excited and jumps up on her hind legs, putting her big front paws up on the bed, and nuzzles me to be petted)
Hubby: You don't get excited when I go potty.
of saying thank you.