A dog lover's nightmare: bad owners

 By Jess Eagle

I went out for a friend's 21st birthday last night -- E. Carson Street, of course. When we were leaving the bar at 12:30, a big black blur ran by, followed by a small crowd of people.

The blur turned out to be a young German Shepherd with a collar and tags but no owner in sight.

The dog looked around frantically, ears down and tail between his legs. He ran from one spot on the sidewalk to another, stopping every few steps to raise his head and let out a sad, howling bark. Every once in a while, he ran toward the busy street, only to be stopped by the frantic shouts and whistles of the small crowd of people who didn't know him but desperately wanted him to live.

We could all tell he was lost and scared, and each wanted to rescue him. We crouched down, whistled and shouted, "here, boy!" But when the dog ran by, no one was brave enough to grab his collar. He was, afterall, scared, lost and confused -- not a very promising combo for anyone who put their hand near his neck.

For about 35 minutes, the dog darted back and forth E. Carson while about 4 police officers and a dozen concerned bar-hoppers tried to coax him into cars with bags of chips and reassuring calls. He sometimes stopped in the middle of intersections, and strangers ran after him to stop cars so he wouldn't get hit.

Eventually, he went up to a small, white car parked on the side of the street and tried to get in. No one was in the car, but the doors were unlocked. A police officer opened the back door, and the dog eaglerly jumped in. After closing him in the car, the officer opened the car's front door, took an iPhone from the seat, and began looking for a number to call.

A minute later, the owner innocently wandered up to the car, where his dog sat calmly in the back seat, just where he'd left him.

I reluctantly began to walk away as the officer shouted "Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what's been going on for the last half hour?"

I'm not sure how the dog got out, but word on the street that night was that he'd jumped through an open car window. Even if the windows were closed, the car doors were unlocked, and any drunk idiot could've opened the door to let the poor dog out to wander the street.

It's bad enough that the owner had left his dog in a car while he drank at a bar for at least half an hour, but leaving the doors unlocked and possibly a window down, too?

One girl, who had run out of her appartment with a leash to help, turned to me as the owner walked up to claim ownership of the dog he had carelessly neglected and that we had quickly grown attached to. She summed up my feelings perfectly: "Some people just shouldn't be allowed to own dogs," she said with a sigh.