Would You Know Your Dog?

by Courtney Mroch | More from this Blogger

Have you heard about the people who boarded their dog at a kennel while they went on vacation, but when they went to pick up their dog it wasn't theirs? Or so they suspected.

I first saw it on Inside Edition last week. The man, Ken Griggs, picked up his black lab and noticed on the ride home that the dog was more mellow than normal. It looked like his dog, sure, but it didn't act like his Callie. After a little while longer he was pretty sure the dog he'd picked up wasn't his. He asked the kennel about it, but they said it had to be his dog.

It became a battle of owner vs. kennel. Ultimately, it turned out the man was right. His dog was given to someone else, and when that someone else saw Ken Griggs's story on TV, they understood why the dog they had picked up wasn't acting "normal" either --it wasn't theirs also! Happily, now the dogs are back with their rightful people.

Are you wondering how that could happen? How could they possibly not have known their own dogs right away?

Once upon a time I might have wondered the very same thing. Except this incident reminds me of something that crazy husband of mine once did that was similar to this.

Many moons ago when we lived in Tucson, Arizona, and Budly was still alive, Wayne lost Budly. Or so he thought.

On Saturday mornings while Wayne ran along a path that bordered a wash, Budly and I used to walk in the wash. I'd let him off his leash to run free and play catch. Except sometimes I would forget a tennis ball, and that crazy Budly would pick up rocks, drop them at my feet, and expect me to throw those for him to chase and fetch.

Well, one day Wayne was running with his buddy Mark while Budly, Mark's wife Kim, and I walked in the wash. They were only supposed to be gone for six miles, or about 40-45 minutes.

An hour passed. Then an hour and a half. Kim and I started freaking out a little. A short while later Mark came back solo.

"Where's Wayne?" we asked.

Mark took one look at Budly, shook his head, and started laughing.

"I have no idea now. We spent most of the run chasing after a dog that looked like Budly. He was about 13 miles from here when I left him to come back. I knew Budly had a blue collar."

"What was he thinking? He did know Budly was with me, right?"

Mark shrugged and said, "He thought Budly got away from you. Or that you hit him in the head with a rock and he was out of it."

"What?"

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Mark and Kim waited with me for about half an hour, then they decided to head home. I told them to go because there was no telling when Wayne might finally realize I'd never be so irresponsible to knock my own dog senseless. (Years later I would reflect on this incident when I was once again left alone wondering where the heck Wayne was in what we now refer to as the surfboard fiasco.)

I think I waited another half an hour or so before Wayne, exhausted both mentally and physically, finally made it back to the parking lot meeting spot. He let out the most pitiful wail and dropped to the ground when he saw Budly was okay.

"What were you thinking? Don't you even know your own dog?"

"You don't understand. He looked so much like Budly. I thought maybe you hit him with a rock, he got confused, and he didn't even know us."

"But even Mark knew the collar was different. Didn't you think of that?"

"No. I just thought it was him."

"And that I'd hit him in the head with a rock. Thanks. I'm glad to know you have so little faith in me."

"Sorry."

That's why Wayne's not allowed to pick up our dogs by himself from kennels when we board them. (I wonder if Ken Griggs's wife feels the same now?)

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Learn more about Courtney Mroch

Courtney Mroch is a wife, a proud pet parent, and a writer. She's been with her husband, high school sweetheart Wayne Pryor, over 20 years, married 11 of those. She's "mom" to Mr. Meow, a.k.

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