I’m A Hero Part 2: I’m Addicted To Rescuing Dogs

I’m sure most of you remember earlier in the year when I saw a vehicle stuck in the middle of the road and in the pouring rain I jumped out of my car and helped push it to safety. With absolutely no regard for my own safety or just how good my outfit looked that day, I ushered that broken down hunk of shit car safely into the parking lot and absolutely ruined my outfit for the day.

Well the hero is back at it again folks.

When people say that they rescued a dog they often just mean the bought it from a shelter. At least I think that’s what they mean. I could be wrong. But when I say that I rescued a dog, it’s literally what I mean. I rescued a dog that escaped.

So I’m relaxing in my friends backyard on a beautiful day. And once again, my outfit is on point. Clean white v-neck, khaki colored shorts, and perfect white Vans. That’s when tragedy struck and the dog got loose. And he took off running like a bat out of hell.

Most men, when looking down the face of danger, they run or hide. Or in the case of my piece of shit friend Vic, they just sit there with a dumb look on their face drinking White Claws. But not me. Not this hero. I immediately took off, not caring about the dirt I was running through in my perfectly white Vans.

As someone who is 1/16ish Native Seminole Indian, I used my god given tracking abilities to follow the dogs scent. And there he was, right in my peripherals, sprinting chasing a rabbit. Fearing for both the dog and the rabbit now I really turned the thrusters on. I could hear onlookers talking about the great white blur that they saw. I ignored their applause as I continued onwards towards rescuing the dog.

That’s when he made eyes at me. Staring right into my soul, as if to say, “you ain’t catchin me”.

He took off to my left!

I took a few side steps and just as I extended my arms to snag him he juked more to the left. Just out of my reach. He even looked back at me as he took off running around the corner.

I took a few breaths, steadied my resolve and took off again. With no regards for peoples lawns, my own well being, or just how preposterous I looked, I tracked this dog, once again using my Native Seminole instinct and my eyes.

And that’s when I saw him again.

We looked each other in the eyes and before he could say anything I made a promise to myself, his owners, and God, that I’m not letting this dog get by me again. I was ready to lay down my life to get this dog home safely.

I bunched my hand up like there was a treat in it and started saying his name a few times.

He started jogging my way.

I kept going.

Saying his name over and over again.

“Who wants a treat?”

There was no treat in my hands, but with the inflection in my voice, I convinced him that there was indeed a treat in my hands.

He started jogging faster.

He approached and time slowed down.

I opened my hands and he looked in them hoping to grab a bite of a treat.

Time slowed down more.

I readied my hands to scoop him up.

And just like that, I got him.

I help him in the air like a trophy.

I yelled like I’ve never yelled before, “I’ve got him, I’ve got him, I got Murphy!”

I wish I had a better way to describe how I felt, but this is all I’ve got… I walked that dog back like I had the biggest dick on the planet.

That’s when my friend who owns the dog pulled up in her car.

“Oh hey asshole.” She said.

“Hey fuck you.” I replied, as I contemplated letting the dog run free.

“I’m talking to the dog.”

“Oh, yea that makes more sense.” I fired back after re-evaluating the situation.

I plopped him down on her front seat, and walked back to the house, waiting for an applause that would never come.

But that’s fine, it wasn’t about the applause, or the praise. That isn’t why us heroes do things like that. It’s not about the recognition or the fame (but if a newspaper does want to pick up this story I am available for a few quotes). It’s about helping people. It’s about putting your life or your brand new white Vans on the line, and doing what is right. What is called for.

I can tell you what else it was about. It’s about being better than that piece of shit Vic, who just sat there relaxing for the 20 minutes while I was chasing down the dog. And then when he heard my voice announcing I had caught the dog and he walked out in front of the house and started asking how the search was going, like he was actually going to help.

Here’s a pic of me and the dog I rescued a few short months before this wild incident.

And here’s a pic of my no longer perfectly white Vans right after the incident.

I’ve spent the last few days since the incident searching social media for posts about missing dogs and unfortunately there hasn’t been any. But hopefully soon someone’s dog gets loose, so I can once again get out there a do some rescuing because folks, that’s an adrenaline rush that you can’t replicate.

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