This kind of reminds me of the story of our "Howie".
Howie showed up in our driveway one July day about three years ago. He was a six to eight month old puppy and just an adorable golden retriever mix. After calling the shelter and letting them know of a found dog, we decided to foster him.
Well, the "foster" idea didn't last long. He found his way into our hearts and became the best bud of our dane. We knew the foster thing was out the window when he decided our bed was his, among other cuteness factors.
He did have one bad issue. He was a runner like you wouldn't believe. If we took off after him immedietly, we were usually in luck. The bad ones were when he'd take off and get a few minutes head start before anyone noticed. The worst one was when he was gone for three heartbreaking days. A co-worker of mine found him in a round-a-bout way. Her brother's best friend told her about a dog they had found and put in a neighbor's yard, who happened to be on vacation at the time. Turned out it was less than a mile from our house, and yes it was Howie. Saved me the three hundred dollars to put an ad in the local paper!
A few months after that, Howie ran off again. This time someone picked him up and thankfully took him to the shelter. I found him there in a kennel run, dirty and contrite, and went to the front desk to bail him out. When I arrived I got quite a suprise.
They wouldn't release him to me! Turns out he had originally, two years earlier, been adopted out by this shelter. He was microchipped to someone who lived about thirty miles away. So began the story of "Ojo".
"Ojo", now Howie, in his first six months of life went through four homes, at least. We know this because when they found the original owner, he had given him to someone, whom we called, who had given him to someone, whom we called. . . . etc. The original owner, who signed paperwork saying that if he didn't want him would return him to the shelter, refused to come in now and sign any paperwork re-releasing him. So our Howie had to sit at the shelter in limbo until they could come to a decision on what to do with him.
A very smart caseworker came up with an idea. At her request, I brought in documentation from my pet sitter, documentation from the vets' office, and numerous pics of Howie in his home environment lounging on our couch and hugging with the kiddos. This did the trick, and they let Howie be adopted as officially ours. He's now microchipped to us, adopted to us, and is now listed as "Howie" instead of "Ojo".
My point with this story is that common sense goes a long way. The shelter people here could have been militant and kept him. They could have held onto him for weeks until a council decided his fate. Instead, they saw the situation for what it was and acted in the best interest of Howie.
It would have taken this caseworker about a half an hour to go to the hairdresser's house and verify that this was a good home for Iggy. Instead, she used her title as "owner" of this dog's future to put him back in limbo.
I am very sad about his, thinking of how sad Howie looked in that kennel, knowing that he wanted to be with his family. I'm sad for those kids, cause I know how it is. I had to go out into the parking lot of the shelter that first night and let them know that although Howie was safe, he wasn't coming home with us that night. They bawled their eyes out. I could console them, but I couldn't do a darn thing for the dog that we loved, sleeping on a cold cement floor in a place of unfamiliar smells and sounds.
I hope this woman comes off of her high horse and does what is right, both for Iggy and for the family involved. I understand protocol, but when a life is involved, common sense should prevail.
