A Dog's Gift

A few years ago, when I first moved into this pocket of evil here in Decatur, It was more common to see dogs running loose on the street. You couldn't go one block without seeing several dogs running down the street or rummaging through garbage cans. On my street alone, I was stunned that backyard "breeders" openly defied the laws and no matter how many calls to Dekalb County Animal Control I made, I was more likely to get a knock on my door by an officer who loudly rebuked me for making threatening calls than have someone who cared about animals coming to their aid. Since LifeLine Animal Projecttook over the operation of the shelter, there have been great changes, but they have zero control over the Dekalb County officers who have a hostile attitude towards dogs. The dispatcher at the AC here recently said their job was to protect people from dogs but not to protect dogs from people. I had reported two dogs chained up, and after two months, nothing had been done. After raising hell I finally got a response that the owners were given an ambiguous period of time to comply and now 6 months later, the dogs are still on chains. There is no accountability in this department.
Last year I was riding in a taxi and suddenly a Pitbull dog ran out into the road and the car in the lane next to my taxi slammed into the poor dog and kept going. I screamed for the driver to stop, and he eventually did, more than a block away. I jumped out and ran back to the dog, who got hit two more times before I ran out into the road and waved my arms to stop cars. Every car that stopped began screaming obscenities at me. I called Dekalb Animal Control to get some help, but the dispatch told me they didn't help animals hit by cars, but to call back if it was dead and they would send somebody to get the body. I picked the dog up and carried him to the curb, as a line of cars streamed by me, but I got nothing but angry looks. "Please" I said, "Can you take me to a vet?" But I only got cussed out. I held the poor boy and stroked his face, and talked to him in a soothing voice -but I could tell it was too late. I vividly remember him turning his head towards mine and looking at me as tears streamed down my face and seemed to say "It's OK, please don't cry." And then he gave me a hearty wag of his tail, and as I looked deep into his eyes, and he looked into mine, he seemed to smile, and then he was gone. The last gift from a dying dog was his profound ability to love.