Survive The Streets Of L.A.

It was a warm early-spring day in Calgary when our neighbours heard a commotion and looked out their window just as our daughter sprinted past their house—without shoes. This was immediately followed by Lisa’s car accelerating past with spray from the melting snow flying behind. They stood there thinking, that was odd, only to be further confused when Lisa also sprinted past. Where are they going? Who was driving Lisa’s car? What’s the urgency? They texted Lisa a little later but would not hear anything for hours.

At the time, Sara (not her real name) was 26 and would be soon graduating with a degree in Midwifery from Mount Royal University. She had accepted a position in Abbotsford, B.C. and was excited to start practicing after the four-year program. Before graduating, Sara wanted to get a dog and was searching through rescue foundations for several months.

I said to her, “Having a dog would be great, but wouldn’t it be better to wait until you get settled in your new home and career?”

“I can make it work, Dad.” Then added sharply, “Why do you keep telling me what to do?”

The tension between us had existed since she was a teenager. She held several resentments and had not let me hug her for years.

Sara was a determined child, even as an infant, and it was pointless to argue once her mind was made up. Fortunately, Sara understood the commitment of pet ownership through Millie, our first beagle, who we got when Sara was seven. Millie was a central part of the family and we were all heartbroken when she died at the age of 14. We had since added another female beagle to our family, Joey, who is full of beans and, also, joy.

As Sara watched for the right dog, she would text us pictures of possibilities. When yet another image would appear on my phone, I would shake my head with concern. However, one picture had me thinking, well that is a sweet little dog, maybe that one can work. She was a mixed breed of about 15 pounds with long legs, short yellow coat, soft dark eyes, small floppy ears, and a bright face.

Sara had pre-adoption interviews and was delighted to be selected as this dog’s new owner. The rescue foundation had given her the name ‘Chica’, but Sara renamed her ‘Winnie’.

Below is the first image we saw of Winnie (aka Chica) via text from Sara. Story continues below.

Sara and her roommate, Jane, shared a joy-filled evening with Winnie at their condo. They played with new toys, went for a long walk, and Winnie slept comfortably in Sara’s bed with her. Sara could not be happier. 

We were excited and wanted to meet Winnie as soon as possible, but I said, “wait until Winnie is settled. She has been through a lot.” In the weeks prior to being adopted by Sara , Winnie had been captured as a stray in Los Angeles, held at a ‘high-kill’ shelter, rescued by a Calgary foundation, transported here, spayed, and placed in a foster home. 

We were, therefore, surprised when Sara brought Winnie over to our house early the next morning. I was just about to go out for a coffee meeting as Winnie and Sara came through the door. Sara kicked off her shoes and took off Winnie’s leash. Joey was happy to see Sara and make friends with this new similar-sized dog. We crowded by the front door and Sara said, “Isn’t she precious?”

“Absolutely. Adorable.”

Lisa came home from shopping with a couple bags of groceries. Great excitement and happy greetings for the new Winnie! This precluded us from the normal routine of shutting the door. Joey created additional drama with loud yelping for Lisa, which is her loving way of greeting us, even if we have been away for only 30 minutes. It is the same sound she would probably make after being hit by a fast-moving bicycle. Although this is normal for Joey, it is shocking to those who have not heard it before. Before our neighbours became familiar with this, it was not unusual for them to come out their doors thinking a dog was in distress.

Now, imagine Winnie’s perspective. She had been through many traumatic events in the last several weeks, most at the hands of unknown humans. She meets this Sara-human and Jane-human, they smile at her, give her kibble, treats and toys. They cheerfully call her by a new name. She is comfortable sleeping for one night in Sara-human’s bed. Then, early the next day, she gets transported to yet another unfamiliar location. She is introduced to the commotion of more new humans and a dog making ear-piercing shrieks. Maybe Winnie thought this dog was going to attack her!

What would Winnie instinctively do? Probably the same thing when she felt threatened while surviving on the streets of L.A. 

She saw the open door and ran. Ran fast.

Joey thought this was a fun game and chased Winnie out the open door and down the sidewalk, all while continuing to shriek and bark. Lisa, closest to the door, ran yelling after Joey and caught her. Winnie kept running and Sara immediately followed, without the consideration of shoes. I grabbed keys and ran out the door, hopped in Lisa’s car and raced after Winnie and Sara. Lisa bowled Joey into the house, snatched some doggie treats, that happened to be in the grocery bags, and ran down the street after the three of us. 

It was truly impressive how fast Winnie could run. She is a lean dog with long legs carrying her light weight. If a human were built with her proportions, they would be a world-class marathon runner. Sara is also fast, having twice stood on the podium at the Alberta high school finals in the 4×100 meter relay event—including one gold medal. Even so, Sara could not catch Winnie.

Sara’s legs were pumping like pistons as she rounded the corner by the playground and turned east behind the arena. Winnie was about 30 yards ahead. I raced a block wider in the hopes of heading Winnie off, but she was faster and crossed the street well ahead and continued into the neighbourhood on the other side. Sara was losing ground, now about 50 yards behind. 

I was pleased when I caught up to Winnie and drove alongside her while calling her through the open window. What name to use? Winnie or Chica? I used both, but she kept running.

I sped ahead, stopped, and got out of the car. I thought she would happily trot over to me, as some dogs might. She, however, took evasive action, going around the back of the car and then continued her sprint eastward.
Sara was running and calling Winnie’s name from a distance, but to no effect. I got back in the car however, my pursuit quickly came to an end when Winnie entered a large high school sports field. I watched hopelessly as Sara continued in her socks through the slushy snow. Lisa caught up to me and ran across the field after Winnie and Sara. 

At this point, I felt all was lost. Regardless, I went up to the main street and headed further east hoping I might see Winnie again. I called to cancel the coffee meeting. As I drove around, I was almost in tears thinking of this poor dog who had been ‘rescued’ from the streets of one city, only to be lost on the streets of another. I knew this would be devastating to Sara and, as her father, I wanted to save her from this pain.

Sara’s pursuit across the field came to end when Winnie ducked through a small hole under a chain-link fence beside a townhouse development. Winnie disappeared into the complex. Lisa caught up with Sara at the fence.

Without time to catch her breath, Sara said, “You stay here, I’ll run back and get my car and phone.”

“And shoes,” Lisa added.

Starting to run back through the wet snow, Sara said. “Ya.” Lisa hoped to lure Winnie with the treats and found an unlocked gate into the development. She briefly saw Winnie and called her, but Winnie just trotted off between the buildings, showing no interest in Lisa or the treats.

After driving around for about 20 minutes and seeing no sign of Winnie, I drove to the townhouses just as Sara was driving out. We stopped and she asked if I had seen her.

“No, what about you?“

“No,” she said, “the little shit.”

Sara can be tough when required, but I could see she was barely holding it together and on the edge of tears. She drove away.

Inside the development, I saw Winnie running across the street and called her. She ignored me and disappeared again. There was no way to get close, let alone catch her.

Lisa and I stayed in the area on foot watching for Winnie and asked a few high school students on their way to school if they had seen a little dog. None had. 

Lisa went back to the house to get her phone while I stayed. At one point I saw Winnie in the field and called her and tried to get close, but there was no way. This is hopeless, I thought, how can we possibly catch her?
Lisa came back across the field and I asked, “Where is Sara?”

“At the house—she is a mess.” 

My heart sank further, and I felt sick for Sara and her loss of little Winnie.

Lisa continued, “She has called Robert a few times, but not sure if he was able to make her feel any better. Have you seen Winnie?”

“Yes, but she won’t let me get within 50 yards of her” I said, “The last I saw, she ducked under the fence again.” Handing Lisa the treats I said, “Maybe you will have better luck. I’ll go home and get something that might be tastier for her.”

When I got home, Sara was on the couch and sobbing under a blanket. “I can’t even take care of a dog for 16 hours without losing it.”

“This isn’t your fault,” I said.

“Yes, it is! And now that Winnie is gone, I will never be able to have another dog, they won’t allow me to have another,” she said through her sobs.

“Who won’t?”

“The rescue agencies,” she said, “they will know I lost Winnie and I won’t get another,” she said, “The universe is punishing me for something.”

“What? That is not true,” I said.

“Yes, it is” 

“No one is punishing you for anything.”

I wanted to say, it is okay, we will find Winnie, but I didn’t believe that, and neither would Sara. I did say, “Winnie is going to be okay; she knew how to survive the streets in L.A. and she will learn how to survive here.” This did not help. 

Going to the kitchen I said, “I am taking sandwich meat, bacon and cheese. Maybe Winnie will like these.” Going out the door I said, “We’ll text if we see her.” 

Sara’s face was blotchy red and wet. Almost imperceptibly she replied, “K.”

All I wanted was to take her away her pain but didn’t know how, other than getting Winnie back.

Back at the field, Lisa said, “I have seen her a couple times, but she just runs away if I get close.”

I gave Lisa the food and said, “Maybe these will lure her, I’ll stay here and keep an eye out.”

Lisa walked towards the hole in the fence and waited.

After some time, Winnie came through hole but ignored Lisa.

Lisa held out some sandwich meat and called, “Winnie, come, come.” Winnie came a bit closer and Lisa crouched to make herself look smaller. They were about 15 feet from each other, but Winnie would not come any closer. Lisa tossed a piece of meat to her. Winnie cautiously walked over and ate it. Lisa offered more and tried to get closer, but Winnie growled and ran back through the hole.

Watching this stand off was agonizing. I thought, how will we ever get her, should I go to Canadian Tire to buy a huge fishing net with an extendable handle? Never mind, that would probably just scare her more.

I texted Sara, “see winnie, lisa threw meat, w 8.”

Sara replied, “w 8?”

“Winnie ate.”

Lisa offered bacon. Winnie came back through the hole and Lisa tossed it. Again, Winnie took it, but ran back under the fence.

“Shit!” I said, quietly.

The stand off continued. Winnie would come through hole, Lisa would move closer and toss food, Winnie snatches food and runs back under fence. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack.

Texting Sara, “lisa about 10 ft away from w.”

Sara texted, “I’m coming.”

I replied, “great, bring more bacon, come main entrance, park townhouse by fence hole.”

Winnie was about 10 feet from Lisa, but on the other side of the fence. It seemed like an hour passed before Sara appeared between the townhouses. It was probably just five minutes. Sara was on the same side of the fence as Winnie and about 50 feet away.

Sara knelt in the snow and cheerfully called Winnie. Winnie turned, looked, and paused. We all held our breaths.

Sara continued, “Winnie come, Winnie come, come sweetie.”

Winnie moved slowly towards Sara.

Sara continued encouraging, “C’mon sweetie! That’s it, Winnie, good girl!”

Winnie continued to move slowly, but then quickly slunk towards Sara. It was as if Winnie thought she had done something wrong.

Winnie went right up to Sara, who took hold of her. Sara smiled, looked up at Lisa and me, but did not say anything.
Lisa yelled to Sara, “I love you!”

I (helpfully) yelled the obvious, “Keep hold of her collar!” Then let out a whoop.

Shortly, we were all back at the house. With the door closed, we gave Winnie an appropriate, calm and tear-filled greeting.

I asked Sara , “Can I give you a hug?”

She came over and hugged me.

Winnie was muddy and wet, so Sara gave her a bath and wrapped her in a towel. We took turns holding her (Winnie) to keep her warm and comforted.

After lunch, and once Winnie was dry, we all went for a walk with her and Joey. It was sunny and warm, and we walked down the street as if it was just another day.