He came up the driveway one afternoon while my wife, Willy, was hanging clothes.
He was a big dog, but not aggressive, wagging what remained of his tail. He was part pit bull.
Willy gave him water and got some leftover food from the refrigerator, which he wolfed down. I got home an hour later and found him in the garage lying on an old spread Willy had gotten for him.
He lay there with his tongue hanging out as I examined him. There were many scars on his face, and a chunk of an ear had been torn off. His lip had an old wound. His left shoulder had several scars, and the tail looked like it had been chopped off with no stitches. Part of the bone was exposed.
We left him in the garage with some dog food and with the door open. He was gone in the morning. I later saw him on the corner of the road looking into each truck at the driver as if he was trying to return to his master.
He came back that day and left the next morning, never to be seen again.
We live in the Redlands on a fenced farm. Many people, when they want to get rid of their dogs, drive by and dump them off, hoping somebody will feed and take care of them. A neighbor once saw a dog dropped from a car window, the driver having to forcibly push him out.
We once had three dogs that had been dumped. Why are people like that?
Arthur G. Schoppaul, Homestead















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