Yesterday I had a shocker. I was suppose to pick up my crate from the pound. I had left it there when I transported a couple of dogs a week before. But I over slept and didn't get there to pick it up. I was shopping when I got a call from them saying that had something in it that was mine. Small, black, smooched in face. All I could think was Chicklet my maltese/shish tzu got out. As it ended up it was my FIL's pug Buttons. My MIL had died last summer and he said he was too depressed and the dog reminds him of her too much. I am devastated that he took her to the pound and didn't call me. Fortunately the rescue she was adopted from took her back and I got her into a foster home last night. Sigh, just when you think you know people.
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