Last Tuesday night brought an unexpected guest to our porch: an 11-month-old Dalmatian, drenched from the rain and reeking of something unpleasant. It wasn’t just that he appeared out of nowhere—it was how he looked at me, then elegantly sat at my feet, nose turned up in perfect poise. No tags. No obvious signs of owner attachment. Just silent desperation in his eyes.
My heart couldn’t turn away. I gently leashed him with my own dog’s porch leash and carried him inside. I needed to get help, but first, my husband—home because of the Good Friday holiday—stepped in. In the meantime, the pup curiously investigated, his tail wagging as if he’d known our dogs all his life. I made signs. I posted them all over the neighborhood. I needed to find his family.
That evening, I learned the unsettling truth: our neighbor had surrendered this puppy—named Spots—to an animal shelter. Why? His behavior had become too much—rolling in waste, escaping his tie-out, causing household chaos. Frustrated, the neighbor opted to return him to a shelter, presumably thinking it was his best chance.
The next day, both nearby shelters told me they had no record of him. Panic rose. Was he lost in limbo? Yet late Thursday, one shelter quietly confirmed they had Spots—but said I wouldn’t be allowed to see him until the following day.
Lost in the whole ordeal was how much Spots had connected with us in just a few short hours. His expressive, wide eyes. The gentle wag of his tail at my dogs. The way he seemed hopeful—yet resigned—depending on who you looked at. After the neighbor’s outburst—calling him “Spots” in anger while he cowered—it was painfully clear the pup needed compassion, not frustration.
As of now, I’m determined to help. Next steps are unclear: will Spots be allowed to come home with me? Will he end up in a foster program? Or might he be released back to the owner who’s evidently overwhelmed and hurting himself? The wait at the shelter felt cruelly drawn out.
Through everything, this pup reminded me—animal or human, we all deserve a second chance. To be loved. To feel safe. Even on our worst days.
Stay tuned. My journey to help Spots is far from over.