Halle
She was being hunted by the Phoenix police right in front of our house. One of the two officers told me they received a call about a pit bull chasing people down the street. When I approached her, she trotted away from me. When I got down on the ground into a play position and tapped my hands on the gravel in the alley, she trotted back, then past me, then out onto the street again. When I got her attention and jogged away from her, she ran alongside me, staying several feet to my right, as I veered closer and closer. When she stopped to drink from the water bowl a neighbor had set down, I scooped her up and carried her in my arms back to the house, now three blocks away. The cops saw me, waved, and called off their hunt.
Saved.
Halle was lonely and weak without her former humans. The family she lost trained her to Sit and Stay and Shake, taught her never to jump on anyone, socialized her with other dogs and people, lavished her with affection, and even spayed her.
In just a couple of weeks, she has made us her new family. And we’ve fallen for her.
But our job is to rescue. And to foster. And to find forever homes. And without a good reason to keep her under our care, it’s time for Halle to get back to having a permanent family.
We hope she doesn’t have to go too soon, but somehow, I’m sure she will.
