"Excuse me, sir!" said the teen standing along the one-lane road. "Have you seen a little white dog?"
I was riding in the rural countryside of California's Sonoma Valley, out there recently pedaling through the wine country and hills.
"No, sorry" I told him. "But I'll keep my eyes open." Yikes, I thought, a missing dog. As a pet owner myself I thought how anxious the kid must be to get his dog back.
And wouldn't you know it, a mile down the road and here's the little white dog standing in the grass next to the pavement. I stopped my bike and the cute little dog immediately came over, friendly as can be and looking for some pets. I tried to figure out what to do as I stood there scratching the dog's back.
Of course, if I rode back and told the kid I had seen his dog, the dog might be long gone by the time we got back. And I couldn't just keep riding and pretend I didn't know this was the lost dog. So I did what seemed to me to be the best option: I picked up the dog and tucked him under my arm like I was carrying a football and took off riding back to where I had seen the boy. I'm sure it looked odd, but the dog loved it. His ears were flapping in the breeze and his tongue was hanging out like he was perched at the window on a car ride.
I'm sure it looked funny. And I probably looked like I was stealing somebody's dog.
Circling back, I found the kid quickly and gave him his dog. he was overjoyed and I was happy to have helped. The only think I regret is that I didn't get a photo of me on that bike holding that little white dog...
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