Taz
Taz is one of those dogs with a sad back story. People saw him standing at the same street corner every day and wondered why. People tried to help him but he would run away, but he'd always come back to the same corner. Our best guess is that's where his owners dropped him off and drove away. (Sad I know!)
Before I picked him up I was told he was a Petit Bassett Griffith Vendeen. NEVER heard of this breed before...but I'm always up for learning about a new breed.
When we picked him up at the transport, we were told someone heard him being called Floyd. The rescue named him Texas for paperwork, then we thought it was weird (because he wasn't from Texas), and we shortened it to Taz. We brought him home and gave him a bath and off we went. I spoke with my husband and agreed we would never have him off leash and vigilantly watch him because we knew he was a definite "runner". The sad thing is, once he gets away WE knew he'd never stop running because he'll have to run pretty far to get back to Alabama, but HE didn't know that. (Even more sad! What love a dog can give.)
So that night my husband went to work and I was going to let the dogs out one more time before going to bed. I was fighting with the collar so I just gave up and looped the leash around Taz's neck and took him outside (a lesson I will never forget). Everything was going great, and then he loosened his leash and away he went.
Of all the directions to run, he ran toward a very busy road (thank goodness it was late at night), however my heart just about fell out of my chest. I had PJay and flip flops and off I went running. PJay was having a blast checking on me to make sure I was catching up....I was not, but trying hard (NOT a runner!) As I went flailing my arms yelling "Floyd! Texas! Taz! Come here boy!" Nothing worked, he stopped for a moment to smell some flower, I got a bit closer and he was off again.
As I was losing stride a police squad car pulled up alongside and asked if I needed help. So I proceeded quickly to tell my story and see if she could help. The officer asked and pointed to PJay and I said "oh he's fine. He's not the one I'm worried about." As I saw the officer's car disappear at the top of the hill, I began to really worry. I kept running again up the hill and as I reached the top, I saw a car with brake lights on in the middle of the road...my heart stopped and all I thought was "this was it. I have failed and lost this pup forever all because I didn't want to fight with a stupid collar. What have I done?!"
As I began to run downhill, I saw the driver get out and then I saw a hint of a tail and I screamed, "stop him! Please grab him if you can!" I lost a flip flop and didnt' care, I was elated to see a full body, tail wagging, and driver grabbed his side petting him to keep him close by. Thank the merciful heavens!!
I grabbed him, thanked the driver over and over. Then picked up hefty chubby Taz (his breed did not play in my favor because he was short, wide and long, solid = heavy). Thankfully after walking all the way uphill, the police officer pulled up and asked if I needed a ride. I kindly accepted and as I got into the back of the squad car, I was met with a bit of reality that I'd never sat in the back of a cop car before. The back seat wasn't cushy, there was a mold perfect fit for arms behind the body cuffed. Weird. As we reach the apartment, I go to open the door and I realize I'm locked out. A brief moment of fear, but the officer opened the door and wished me luck and I thought (well duh, criminals can't just open the back door and run away). lol
Another tale of luck and the wonderful help of loving people.
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