I almost wasn’t going to post about this old gal, because people can only take so many bummers and I’ve been writing about quite a few of them lately. But just as I can’t not stop and offer help, so can I not keep my own personal spotlight shining on the growing problem of abandoned animals.

I got detoured by roadwork off Redondo Boulevard a couple blocks north of Jefferson on my drive in this morning and ended up on Cloverdale where I found her trotting up the street.

Same old story: Collar but no tag. I parked got out and called to her — even commanded her to “come here!” as had been wisely suggested, but nope. Beyond a lingering look at me from a house away it was nothing but “I don’t know you, leave me alone.”

I can relate.

And I almost left it at that. But then I turned around and parked up the block past her as she nosed around  in the gutter looking for scraps. Getting out with my requisite bag of kibble and jerky treats a house away from her, she paid me no mind. But her ears perked up and I got her attention when I shook the bag and clucked my tongue. Was it enough to bring her to me? No. She just stood there.

So I sat on the curb and poured out the bag’s contents onto the grass. She took a tentative stop toward me, but no more. So I got up and got back in my truck. Before I’d closed the door she was on the food, eating heartily. I debated getting back out and trying again, but I stayed put watching her eat, not wanting to risk frightening her away from what may have been the best meal she’d had in a long time.

I take equal measures of comfort and sorrow in that. Victory and defeat.