We found a puppy yesterday morning. The entire week it had been below freezing here, so it was sheer luck that he got out on the one day it finally warmed up. He was also lucky my husband didn’t reverse the car into him and turn him into a tiny squishmallow. It’s like the fates lined up to bring him to us, like the universe knew that we were the people to find him and take care of him.

And then fate turned cruel. What I thought was an abandoned puppy turned out to (supposedly) be someone else’s dog. We had assumed that he had been given to someone over Christmas, and that he was a case of abandoned pet after a seasonal event. We had put up notices on many sites inquiring as to who the owner was, but after a full 24 hours we were starting to feel like he might stick with us. In the short time I had him here, I worked on his barking, separation anxiety, food aggression and potty training. I fed him the amount of food a puppy his age SHOULD have been eating. I made sure he had water and a warm blanket to snuggle into. We bought him a new collar and leash, food bowls and treats and plushies to play with. I didn’t want to get emotionally invested while we were trying to find his owners, but it was an inevitability. He was one of the sweetest pups I’ve ever met.

The “owner” (if you can call them that) gave us a lot of strange stories that contradicted one another. The photos of the dog that they had were similar but still seemed different enough to question whether or not it was the same dog. Then there was the fact that if it was the same dog in the pictures, why were they very old pictures, and why didn’t they have any recent ones? If they had tried to claim the dog had been missing for longer than a few days, that raised the question of how an 8 pound dog could survive sub-freezing temperatures for days at a time without succumbing to the elements.

Maybe I’m just a natural skeptic. I have trust issues. I also am a keen reader of people, and that lady wasn’t jiving with me. My husband believed it was her dog, though, and it was ultimately easier to relinquish the puppy to her and move on with our lives than deal with any conflict that would arise from dissention. The subsequent acclimation of a new dog in our already two-dog home would have been a struggle as well, especially potty training a puppy while potty training a toddler. We put our trust in this stranger to do right by this little dog, but it has left me more torn up than I was previously, when I had been adjusting to a possible three dog future.

I just want to be able to believe that he’ll be well taken care of. I’m struggling to feel that way because he was incredibly skinny and undernourished. He had exhibited food hoarding behaviors, which indicates he had food withheld or taken from him, possibly as punishment or in a situation with multiple dogs (maybe even backyard breeding). He wasn’t chipped, and he wasn’t fixed, and he was old enough for both. He was highly intelligent and responded well to commands, and he had a very good personality for such a tiny breed.

I really hope my suspicions prove false. I hope he’s home, and I hope he’s safe.

The irony in all of this is the moments after. Upon arriving home, being gutted and heartbroken, my toddler asked for me to play Howl’s Moving Castle on the TV. Years ago, that movie was what got me through losing a child, a fur baby, and almost dying in a car wreck, all in the span of a few weeks. It’s such an incredibly bittersweet feeling to watch it again, and to realize my sweet toddler is the one who brought it back into my life.

I am as proud as I’ve ever been of that kid. The compassion and empathy shown to such a tiny puppy, and to Mommy, is something special and rare right now in the world. I hope that kindness stays intact.