The German Shepherd Next Door

Well, not next door to me. Next door to my parents.

I stopped by my mom's this morning, and while I was there I asked her if she wanted to join my dog blog. She's a Dog Person who, by her own admission, slows down the car to check out dogs like men do to check out women. She covets the neighbors' dogs, and the dogs she sees passing by on the street, and the dogs on television commercials.

She couldn't talk to me about blogging dogs, though, because she was busy standing at the patio door conversing with the German Shepherd next door. Someone had to.



The German Shepherd next door moved in last week, and instantly caused a lot of controversy in the neighborhood over things like the proper care and feeding of dogs, whose business other people's animals were and were not, and how to pronounce "Assisi".

The new family next door apparently moved in, staked the dog out in the yard with a little plastic house approximately half his size and no food or water, and went back to their old house overnight. The neighbors fed him and talked softly to him and gave him water for two days, and then someone called animal control. They took the dog and left a note, and a couple of hours later the dog was back, tied up in the yard again (but further from the fence) and looking no happier.

He's a beautiful dog, and he wags his tail tentatively and looks hopeful when you speak nicely to him, but he's not quite brave enough to actually approach. 2/3 of all conversations on the block now begin, "I don't know what we're going to do about that dog." I wish I had a happy ending to report (and I'm still hopeful), but for now...I don't know what we're going to do about that dog.