This sweet, lo
yal, huge white dog followed us through the campground on Sunday. He would go ahead and lay in the shade, then follow us as we passed. We couldn’t shake him. We rode on the tailgate of the camp manager’s pickup and he trotted after us. We walked him to the river, where he waded out and drank thirstily. We ran up the hill and walked away, but he galloped up the hill after us. We couldn’t go back to our campsite—we knew he would stay there with us. What would PC and Partner do then? We had been headed to the nearby commercial campground to determine if they had a dump station we could use the next morning. We couldn’t have him go there with us.
Finally, John stayed with him and I walked back to get the truck. I even retraced our steps till I was walking where he first started following us—hoping he wouldn’t find the way to our trailer. When I drove down the fishing access road to pick up John, I found them standing together in the shade.
As much as we felt sorry for him—he was shaggy and needed brushing and was probably hungry--we could do nothing for the sweet old thing. He had either run away from his owners and they had to leave before they found him (that is the charitable explanation), or he was abandoned along the Conejos River. How could anyone do that? But once in the truck, we decided to drive down to check on the dump station, then go on into Antonito for lunch, hoping he might give up waiting for us.
When we returned to the campground, the dog was nowhere in sight, thank goodness. But we wonder how he is doing and if he found a new home.
yal, huge white dog followed us through the campground on Sunday. He would go ahead and lay in the shade, then follow us as we passed. We couldn’t shake him. We rode on the tailgate of the camp manager’s pickup and he trotted after us. We walked him to the river, where he waded out and drank thirstily. We ran up the hill and walked away, but he galloped up the hill after us. We couldn’t go back to our campsite—we knew he would stay there with us. What would PC and Partner do then? We had been headed to the nearby commercial campground to determine if they had a dump station we could use the next morning. We couldn’t have him go there with us.Finally, John stayed with him and I walked back to get the truck. I even retraced our steps till I was walking where he first started following us—hoping he wouldn’t find the way to our trailer. When I drove down the fishing access road to pick up John, I found them standing together in the shade.
As much as we felt sorry for him—he was shaggy and needed brushing and was probably hungry--we could do nothing for the sweet old thing. He had either run away from his owners and they had to leave before they found him (that is the charitable explanation), or he was abandoned along the Conejos River. How could anyone do that? But once in the truck, we decided to drive down to check on the dump station, then go on into Antonito for lunch, hoping he might give up waiting for us.
When we returned to the campground, the dog was nowhere in sight, thank goodness. But we wonder how he is doing and if he found a new home.
Maybe he knew that P.C. and partner were back at the trailer and was looking for a quick snack?
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