On September 18, 2006, I was driving north out of town on a four-lane highway. Suddenly, at the crest of a hill in the distance, I saw a small figure. When the figure was perhaps a half-mile away, I saw that it was a dog running full-speed down the center of the highway, the wrong way. I quickly realized its death was imminent unless I did something.
I pulled my car to the side of the highway, leaped out and began waving my arms. As cars approached from behind me, the dog made a beeline to my car and, without further invitation, jumped in. I scrambled to get back into the car and, as soon as I did, the dog curled up in my lap. Before I'd driven a half-mile, he was fast asleep.
Although we put up notices and pictures in all of local vets' offices, no one claimed him. As it turns out, it appears he was dumped at the local shelter in an outside cage and somehow escaped and was running toward what he considered home.
My wife and I had been discussing having a dog join our family for a couple of years, and so we happily adopted the terrier we named Stanley and he's added life and laughter on a daily basis ever since.
Considering what he must have been through and his sheer terror and exhaustion that was evident when he found me, we consider Stanley to be one of the luckiest dogs in the world.
We are no less lucky.
Macomb, IL
