I like to think that Coconut was owned once upon a time. He came to us at fourteen months. He was dreadfully underweight but he could sit on command, eat nicely from my hand, and he was potty trained. He was also a runner.
 
Oh, the stories I’ve shared about our little Houdini and the night time runs through the neighborhood calling out for him to come, shaking a bag of treats, and then thrilled when he finally ran home, so happy to see us.
 
In my version of Coconut’s story his people are calling out, desperate to find their little boy. His shelter name was Niki but who knows what he was really called as he had no tag or microchip. I think about their anguish. Maybe posters on trees, Facebook posts begging people to look for their dog.
 
I hope that as time went by they were able to consider that their dog had been somehow taken to a shelter where he saw a vet, got neutered, and against all odds got on a transport to Oshkosh to meet this sad and anxious woman who never wanted a dog. IA woman who was so incredibly suicidal after her brain injury that she was willing to try anything.
 
This dog could have ended up in many shelters here in WI or other states. But he came here specifically to save my life. And I moved all the way from Hawaii, kicking and screaming, to save his.
 
I wish I could find his people, to tell them how much their loss was my gain. I hope they got another dog to love. One who wasn’t a runner.
 
Giving up a dog is never easy. We’ve had dogs come to us because of the death of their person, or a divorce, or because people can’t find a place to live with a dog when the rental home they were in sold. Life can be very, very messy. Please remember that if a dog comes back to us. We just don’t know all that happened but we do know that every dog deserves the right home at the right time.