A friend and I decided to participate in the neighborhood annual yard sale. A great way to enjoy a beautiful Saturday afternoon, get rid of a few things and catch up without feeling guilty of what else needs to be done around the house.
As we chatted a yellow Labrador bounced across the yard. Soaking wet, no collar but lots of personality. It was easy to see this was a well cared for pup who had managed to get out. She sat when I told her to and was well fed.
Grabbing one of our spare leashes (I always keep one in the car) I looped the hook through the handle and slipped it over her neck.
Knowing the nearest veterinarian office had Saturday hours the Labrador and I hopped into the car to have her scanned, or could I get lucky enough that she would be a patient and the staff would recognize her?
Well she wasn’t a patient but the scanner detected a microchip. The staff and I cheered. We were going to reunite this lost dog and her family.
The vet’s receptionist called the clinic the chip company gave them. The clinic is where the breeder initially registered the pups. Oh, and it was in Ontario, Canada. A fair distance from the east coast of Florida.
After a series of calls back and forth a woman showed up on a bicycle and it was obvious this was the dog’s current owner. I told her what we had gone through to find her and suggested that she call the micro chip company and update the information so that the next time the dog gets out, something that was apparently a frequent occurrence, she could be contacted directly.
Oh, and the dog’s name? Trouble.