Goodbye to Dobie, the Lovable Rogue

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In rural North Carolina, it’s not uncommon to see a dog running wild. Dog owners tend to keep their dogs outside, and some dog owners aren’t overly concerned about limiting their dog’s roaming activities to their own particular property (i.e., they don’t fence or tether their dog).

So three months ago, when we woke up to a little black dog loitering on the back edge of our property, we weren’t particularly concerned. We figured he’d eventually get hungry and return to whatever local farm was his true home.

No such luck. Our little visitor quickly developed a fondness for our area. If he wasn’t loitering on our property, he was loitering on the property of one of our neighbors. And after three days of his loitering, we came to the realization that we had a problem.

The FIRE Mentality in Action

Now, because we are the embodiment of the FIRE movement, we have a rather fierce DIY mentality. We don’t wait for the authorities or fate to solve our problems. We solve our problems ourselves. So we began to take action.

The first action we took was to approach our little visitor. Perhaps he had a collar, and if he did, it might identify the address of his true home. Again, no such luck. As we approached him, he would just bark and retreat. We did get close enough, though, to see he didn’t have a collar.

The second action we took was to call animal control. Perhaps it would come and rescue our little visitor. Nope. Animal control in our county doesn’t operate a no-kill shelter. Our little visitor would have a three-day adoption window. If there were no takers after three days, he would be put down. And there was no way Mrs. Groovy and I would risk that. Animal control was out of the question.

The third action we took was to take a picture of our little visitor and send it to a local shelter that posts pictures of lost dogs on its Facebook page. We also took an ad out, so to speak, on Craigslist. But sadly, neither of these tactics produced any leads.

The fourth action we took was to consider feeding our little visitor and eventually making him our pet. But we really had no stomach for that. We are in the prime travel years of our lives. We have the time, money, and health to travel America and the world. Encumbering ourselves with a pet right now would make the kind of travel we want to do very difficult. (Finding a dog sitter for a weekend is easy. Finding a dog sitter for a 35-day Australian-like vacation isn’t.) Nope, the ownership option wasn’t completely off the table, but we decided to make it our last resort.

With adopting our little visitor on hold, the fifth action we took was to call Wes and Tammy, the neighbors directly behind Groovy Ranch. Perhaps they would have some ideas on how to resolve our problem, And to our happy surprise, they were considering adopting our little visitor themselves. They already had two dogs, which were fenced in a large pen in their backyard, so one more really wouldn’t hurt. “Awesome,” Mrs. Groovy and I exclaimed. And to show our appreciation, we offered to pay for any vet bills Wes and Tammy would incur by bringing our little visitor into their family of fur babies.

Our Little Visitor Is Finally Adopted and Given a Name

It didn’t take long, perhaps a week, but once Wes and Tammy began feeding our little visitor, our little visitor decided to adopt Wes and Tammy. Wherever Wes and Tammy went in their yard, our little visitor was in tow. And by the end of week two, our little visitor ceased being a vagabond. Most of his time was now split between Wes and Tammy’s deck and backyard. Our little visitor particularly liked hanging out by Wes and Tammy’s dog pen, playing with and sniffing his soon to be siblings, Darla and Rocky.

And then it happened. One morning, while I was in my bedroom readying myself for the day, I heard Mrs. Groovy shout with delight, “He’s in the pen!” So I ran to the kitchen window, and sure enough, our little visitor was in the pen frolicking with Darla and Rocky.

Our little visitor was officially adopted. And he got a name. Wes and Tammy decided to call him Dobie.

All was now right in our little corner of Louisburg. Or was it?

Dobie Should Have Been Named Houdini

By all appearances, Dobie was the perfect addition to Wes and Tammy’s family of fur babies. But there were just two little problems.

First, Dobie was an escape artist. He has no problem climbing a chainlink fence. So as soon as he tired of playing with Darla and Rocky, he would exit the pen.

Second, Dobie had grown so attached to Wes and Tammy, he would chase their respective cars whenever either one of them left for work or went on an errand. So at least once a day, Mrs. Groovy and I would have to roust Dobie from the road right in front of Groovy Ranch. Not good. The road isn’t heavily trafficked, but drivers routinely whiz by at 60 miles per hour. If Dobie couldn’t be restrained or cured of his car-chasing fetish, he would soon be traveling to doggy heaven.

The situation was clearly untenable. Dobie was rescued but not rescued.

At this point, Mrs. Groovy reached out to another neighbor who owned a hardware store in a neighboring town. Perhaps Tim might know a customer who would want to adopt a dog and make it an indoor pet.

And sure enough, Tim did. The next day he informed Mrs. Groovy that one of his customers was looking for a new family dog. Mrs. Groovy then excitedly reached out to Tammy.

Wes and Tammy weren’t oblivious to the plight of Dobie. They knew their pen wasn’t adequate and something had to be done. So they were way ahead of Tim and Mrs. Groovy. Wes and Tammy had already reached out to their friends, and one of their friends stepped up to take Dobie—and keep him safely inside so he couldn’t chase cars.

Last Sunday, Dobie left our corner of Louisburg for good. It was bittersweet, for sure. We’re going to miss his little head and his infectious personality.

Damn it! Why do humans find four-legged rogues so compelling?

Quick Aside: On one of the days that an escaped Dobie was giving us a heart attack, two more dogs appeared out of nowhere (see picture below). But happily, these dogs weren’t abandoned or lost. We called Tammy and she informed us that they were George and Sally and belonged to the farm behind her property. She told us not to sweat it. George and Sally would soon return home on their own volition, and she was right. 

Final Thoughts

Okay, groovy freedomist, that’s all I got. This post obviously doesn’t have any personal finance angle. I just figured it would be nice to share what life is like in rural North Carolina. Have a great weekend. Peace.