Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone?

Two weeks ago, my father-in-law, Daniel W. Placentra, passed away. He was quite a presence in our lives. After losing his wife of 56 years, Frances, last May, he has never been quite the same.

Pop was a World War II veteran, but never wanted to talk about “all that bad stuff”. He was on the front line, a telegraph lineman, which means he was the first out to lay the phone lines.

He served in General Patton’s third army, and ended his time in Auschwitz, a time he never would tell us about. He was a tough brave guy … well, except when it came to my dog and three other daughters. To us, he was just our strong, often whistling patriarch, always eager to offer a word of advice, like “a meal is not a meal without bread” and, most memorably, “I’m drinking and they are getting drunk."

Not only was Pop a tough guy in the war, earning four Bronze Stars for valor, he then spent the next 54 years as a Philadelphia police officer, in every division you can imagine, the last 30 years as a lieutenant. 

Despite a certain “tough-guy” persona, this decorated war veteran and esteemed police lieutenant had a soft spot for our little grey dog, Mia, often sneaking her scraps under the table.

Yesterday, while I was gardening in my front yard, my dog, Mia, who is a 12-year-old Cairn terrier who looks just like Toto (with a few extra pounds on her) barked to go inside. I thought this was strange, considering it was a beautiful day, and she loves to be outside, but I let her in anyway and left the front door open so she could come back out again if she wanted to.

It was 4:30 p.m.—too early to feed her dinner—and so I finished planting and, around 6:15 p.m., I went inside to feed her. I put her food out and she did not run into the kitchen to eat it, which was unusual. I started looking for her outside, all around the yard, in the front, in the back, and then I thought she must be asleep somewhere in the house. After about 20 minutes of searching, I gave up and called the police. 

They told me that animal control picked a small grey dog up a few minutes ago and brought her “in," whatever that means. The police said they would have animal control call me soon. I was so happy they had her, if it actually was her.  I could not imagine telling my kids that I lost the dog two weeks after they lost their grandfather. I was impatient waiting for them to call me back so I went to the shelter to see if I could get her. They had just closed 20 minutes before I arrived, and no one could come back to get her for me, but at least they described her exactly. The crazy part is that they actually found her one door down, near the corner of my property. 

So why am I telling you all of this? My adventure to try to pick up my dog at the pound was an unexpected experience. Since they closed at 6:30 p.m., shortly after getting my dog—my dog with no collar and no microchip and no recent town registration—I had no way to pick her up until today. If I had remembered to register her, they would have searched the database for my street, looked up her description, and brought her home to me. On my way to pick up my dog at the shelter today I stopped at the township office and re-registered her.

It was simple, inexpensive and only took a few minutes. Here is the link for the form. 

Mia was a very lucky dog; they gave her her own room, a bed, a meal and clean water. Most of the other dogs there are not so lucky, and not to mention the many cats and at least one bunny. They don’t get to go home less than 16 hours after they get to the shelter. 

Due to the economy, many of our neighbors cannot afford to keep their pets anymore and turn them in to animal control for adoption. Due to this fact, the shelter is in need of many items, and volunteers. My sister-in-law had wanted us to donate something related to dogs in Pop’s memory. I was not sure that was a good idea, not sure that is what Pop would have wanted. Now I have to say, once again to Papa, Ok, I hear you—Eva was right, you did want us to take care of pets in need. 

The Montclair Animal Shelter is located at 77 Willow Street in Montclair. They are currently in need of:

Liquid hand soap, dish detergent, paper towels, laundry detergent, bleach, disinfecting wipes, scrubby sponges, toys, cat treats, dog treats, canned kitten food, kitten KMR, canned cat food, and canned dog food. 

I stopped at the A&P on my way this morning and picked up a trunk full of stuff to donate. I thought it was the least I could do. After all, they saved my furry baby, and it certainly seemed to me that it is what Papa would have wanted me to do. My story ends well. Mia is home, freshly bathed, fed and sleeping on her “couch”. 

If you can spare some supplies, or want to adopt an animal that needs a good home, call 973-744-8600 or drop off supplies at the Montclair Animal shelter, Tuesday through Sunday, 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. And remember, register your dog or cat—it makes it so much easier for the town to contact you if they find your pet.