Two Sundays ago a dog appeared at our doorstep. This is not unusual, since we live in the country and have two and a half dogs of our own. One showed up a couple of months ago who decided to stick around. We called the shelter and informed them, and asked some folks nearby, but he didn't really seem to belong anywhere, so on our porch he's stayed since around February. He's a malamute and late last month he shed his winter coat. That's why he only counts as half a dog-- he's much smaller than he used to be. That fellow will be moving in with my friend Andrew before long, but I digress; back to the vagrant. The one that showed up that Sunday was different. She was no male chasing the lingering scent of a bitch recently in season. This was a female pit bull, barely out of adolescence wearing a too-big collar and covered in mud. Rain was sheeting down and she was pressed against the back door, eyeing me hopefully as she tried to avoid the brunt of the deluge.

We were not about to let this dripping, dirty dog into our house, and I mentioned that she was probably out exploring and got lost looking for shelter when the storm rolled in. I tried to avoid making further eye contact with her, and knew that she would leave sooner or later. A couple of hours later, Alicia and I had to pick our daughter up at my sister's house. The rain had not slowed, but our visitor was not in sight either. We jumped into the truck and made our way down the driveway and started to pull out onto the highway; we live just off US 501 North. As Alicia glanced left she saw the dripping, dirty dog dart across the road, and into the other lane. Alicia slowed and pulled off the road to make sure that the girl stayed on that side of the road. She did not.

Two cars skidded and swerved as the confused animal turned twice in the middle of the southbound lane. Another car saw her and locked their brakes, rocking back and forth as they hydroplaned toward her. She recognized the danger and attempted to leap out of the way. The car struck her left haunch and accelerated, speeding away from the scene as the dog sailed through the air and landed with a heartwrenching squeal in my driveway. We burst out our car doors and ran, looking for her. A Lexus SUV pulled over as well, and the driver and passenger of that vehicle joined the search; calling out and wandering in the rain. I charged up the driveway, calling out for her. On a hunch I ran to the porch, hoping she would be at the door. She wasn't pressed it, but as I stood there I heard whimpering. In the overgrown bushes in front of the porch, she was huddled, whimpering and shivering.

The girl was obviously going into shock, so with no time to waste I circled the porch, crawled to her and gingerly extracted her. Completely drenched and covered in muck, I carried her down the driveway, stumbling all the while because I could not see for all the rain running down my glasses.

I emerged from beneath the tree covered canopy of my driveway and our small search party clustered together at the edge of the road to cross so we could get the dog to a vehicle and an emergency vet. They already had a dog in their car and it didn't get along with other animals, so Alicia and I took her to the Apex Animal Emergency Clinic. They kept her overnight and patched her up. She was scraped and bruised, but had no broken bones or internal bleeding. She came home with us the next day, much to the dismay of the other dogs, Molly and Lexi.

We called her Precious, and she loved me. She would not leave my side. I am still not sure if that was due to the other dogs threatening her, or if she felt like she had to be with me since I rescued her. She crawled into my bed at night and slept pressed against my hip. She sat next to me on the couch, or at my feet when I did not want her on the furniture. She attempted to make peace with Molly by bringing her stuffed animals and other gifts. She stopped limping after a week. She disappeared the day she could walk normally again.

Precious didn't stay long, and I have a strong feeling that she returned to where she belongs. While she was here, she was loving, affectionate, tried her best to be an obediant dog and to repay all the kindness that we had given to her. It saddens me that she didn't stay, but I know in my heart that she could not have remained. After all, when I first saw her, I knew that she would leave sooner or later. Was it worth the $244 veterinary bill for one Precious week? If it happened again, I wouldn't do anything differently.