The Modern Rescue

By Kathrese McKee | Feature

Sunday evening, I brought a bloodhound home for a sleepover. I called my husband to warn him. “There’s a guest in my truck. I almost hit a bloodhound. He doesn’t have a collar, and I don’t want anything to happen to him. He begged to get in the truck, so I let him.” Hey, it seemed logical at the time.

My long-suffering husband’s only comment was, “Why couldn’t you find a nice quiet dog, like a Basenji?” That’s code for, “Bring him home. We’ll see what we can do.” Thanks, Dear.

A Modern Angle

This was a modern rescue. No ads in the paper and no signs posted around the neighborhood. As I suspected, this obviously purebred bloodhound was chipped. First thing this morning, my vet’s receptionist ran a wand over Jake’s neck and shoulders, and it beeped. She wrote down the ID number, and I did a short search on the internet. I called an 800 number, and that was that.

My kids named the dog “Clyde,” but his name is Jake. Turns out that Jake is a newly adopted rescue, and his owners had to leave him with his grand-dog-parents for the Thanksgiving holiday. Grandma and Grandpa got their wires crossed, and Jake went on a walk-about. Clyde/Jake is a grand dog. He doesn’t know all the commands and he can’t tell you where he lives, but he’s sweet and eager to please. He also drools, but that’s just a bloodhound thing.

Jake’s chip means this story ended happily for everyone involved. The owners will get their new dog back, the dog gets to go back home, the grand-dog-parents are off the hook, and my dogs don’t have to share their space with a lovely, drool-monster bloodhound.


About the Author

Texas author, Kathrese McKee, writes epic adventures for young adults and anyone else who enjoys pirates and princesses combined with life’s difficult questions. She is committed to exciting stories, appropriate content, and quality craftsmanship.

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