Have you ever seen a dog running without its owner along the streets? Have you ever said, “Someone’s bound to get him,” instead of stopping and trying to help?
Well thanks a lot, because I am that someone.
Since I’ve been up at Binghamton I have found close to 10 dogs running along the streets and have gone the ridiculously-extra mile to rescue them.
Why?
My dog (a 2-year-old American Staffordshire Terrier named Lucy) was found running along a busy road in a bad area of Long Island.
And even though I can’t keep the dogs that I find — screw you, landlord — more than half of the dogs have been returned to their owners and the other half to shelters I know and trust. Three of the dogs I have found and brought to a shelter have since been adopted.
People think it’s wrong to bring a dog to a shelter because they assume that shelters are like pounds and are horrible, loveless places. Sure, I wouldn’t prefer to keep a dog in a shelter for an extended period of time — but a shelter is better than death on the street.
The prevalence of dogs running around Binghamton is caused by two major factors:
One, there is a lack of education regarding the proper treatment of animals here in Binghamton. Many owners believe that letting their dog roam around the streets so he/she can do their business is OK when it really isn’t. Most owners don’t get their dogs fixed, so those dogs running around often impregnate or are impregnated by other dogs that aren’t fixed and running loose. Then those dogs have puppies and the owners either sell them for a profit or treat them the same way they treat their older dog.
Two, animal control up here is a joke. They don’t have weekend hours and don’t work past the normal workday. And there is no animal control officer on call, so dogs better get lost during the work week and normal business hours or they’re shit out of luck. The lack of animal control officers leave the rescue of Binghamton’s furry friends to the people of Binghamton — and, as I mentioned, most of them don’t understand how to properly treat an animal in the first place.
Just a few days ago on Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend and I were driving back from the movies when he almost hit a dog with his car. I was on the phone with my mother and interrupted her to scream, “Dog! Dog! We have to go back!”
We then spent the evening enjoying a two-hour ordeal involving the two of us running around the north side of Main Street (not the nicest of areas) in 29-degree weather in order to try and wrangle up what looked like a Chow-Chow/German Shepherd mix.
Picture a 130-pound blonde girl in the area of Main Street you hate walking by even when you’re drunk in UGG boots and a pea coat, sprinting down icy sidewalks and hurdling over snow piles while screaming, “Come here, pup!”
A few Binghamton residents came out of their houses to see what all the noise was about, and one kind man even helped us pick up the lost dog and put him in the trunk of my boyfriend’s Jeep.
After calling the Binghamton police and describing the dog, we learned that he had recently been reported lost. The owner came that night to pick him up, and I spent the next 20 minutes mopping the floor and cleaning the seats in the Jeep.
There have been far too many instances involving me finding dogs to chalk this up to coincidence. I found a dog at 4 a.m. sitting at the end of my driveway upon my arrival home; I found a dog after staying on campus an extra hour and driving home later than I usually do.
Someone wants me to find these dogs — and although I’ve busted my ass helping them, there won’t be a day in my life that I won’t stop and save a dog that needs help.
The next time you see a dog running around the streets, look for a red Mitsubishi Lancer and a blonde girl running around maniacally. I could use an extra hand.