part of the neighborhood. He wouldn't let anyone come near him, but he wasn't vicious, just plain scared.
Month after month, people who lived on the four corners of this intersection put food out for him. But as time went on I could see him sitting on the neighbor's steps so cold that he looked like he was starting to sway. I think he was flirting with hypothermia. And one day he could only walk on three legs. He held his front leg up as he walked and it dangled.
I had a back entry where the door opened inward instead of outward. (I have replaced that storm door) So I put a heavy old coat in the little entry for him to sleep on at night. I don't know how animals know things, but this Beagle knew that he could sleep there and so he did.
But this could not go on forever because we didn't know if he could become a danger to the
children in the neighborhood or contract some disease and die alone in agony.
So I contacted the Animal Shelter. They borrowed a tranquilizer gun from the local zoo, and
set out to catch this poor homeless creature. But he eluded them time after time.
Then one cold night he crept into my back entry and accidentally pushed the door closed.
In the morning I realized he was trapped there! I called the shelter and a man came out in record time! He entered through my front door, through the house and then opened
the back kitchen door and quickly got in the entry with him. The Beagle put up a struggle, but
was subdued with mace.
I had mixed feelings. I was glad that poor dog was going to be put out of his misery, yet I did
not care much for the part I played in bringing his life to an end.
I remember you telling this story. The dog must have known being captured was the best thing.
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