For the past few months, we tried to avoid the house during the occasional jog. The sight of the fenced up husky was too much to bear. With a perimeter spanning slightly less than 2 metres in length, it pains us to see the beautiful dog with sky-blue eyes cooped up in its jailhouse.
Courtesy of sodahead.com
We tried to reason the fact that perhaps, there were guests around. Or maybe the gate had to be left wide open for delivery of some sort. But each time we went past that unit, it was there, either staring wistfully over the metal fence or howling its heart out to Kaylee, our Golden Retriever.
” This is not the way. Huskies are meant to run freely on vast snowcapped horizons, not stuck within a humid car pouch, woefully watching the hours go by.” Adrian was indignant.
” Ya, if they want it merely to keep watch, at least give it space to stretch those legs.” My remark worked only to add fuel to fire.
We contemplated calling the SPCA. Surely, the rescue team could march up to the house and demand a more humane way of housing the poor dog? Then again, what if this triggers a backlash? What if the owner, whom we assume to not like the husky in the first place, decides that it was inviting too much trouble after all? Wouldn’t we worsen the situation?
As much as it bothered us, we decided to leave things untouched and continue to monitor the situation. Though obviously confined in too small an area, the husky has not displayed signs of distress.
That said, when we went for an impromptu run yesterday, thanks to overriding guilt from way too many pineapple tarts and abalone treats during Chinese New Year, I couldn’t help but toss a glance over to the house again.
The gate was left wide open as usual. In the garden was the lady owner, a medium-built lady in her late forties.
Husky was just sitting there, its sad blue eyes following every movement she made. Something came over me and I said to Adrian,”I’m going to ask her. Can’t take it anymore.”
With that mental momentum, I marched up to the lady and asked as tactfully as I could manage. Before I knew it, a whole string of questions came forth.
Has the dog been naughty? Could it be possible that a larger area was allocated for it? Has it been ever walked? Why is it not released even when the main gate was closed?
As it turned out, Husky’s name is Vino ( strange name for a female, hmmm) and has a personal grudge against the lady owner ( oops, forgot to ask her name. In fact, we seem to know more doggy names in the neighbourhood than the owners,ha) ever since Vino was punished for ‘killing’ her slipper. Thus, the only time Vino could be out running in the nearby field is when the head of the household comes back from work.
” Sure, the leash is here, “? she said when we asked to bring Vino for a little run. With that, she was out like a mad husky, marking every spot she could find, even though I swear she could squeeze out merely half a drop.
I wish we had done this earlier. But still, it’s not too late. Knowing that Vino is not in dire living conditions as previously thought lifted a huge worry off our minds. And now that she has found new running mates in us, I say it’s a win-win situation after all.
There’s absolutely no excuse not to run on weekends then.
