I just got back from The Apartment at 3:30am, and when I pulled into my parking spot (read: some space on what is technically the neighbor's section of the berm), I saw, as I turned my headlights off, a dog. Very small, it reminded me of a long-haired chihuahua I once knew, except that its fur was slightly thicker and brown/white in color. Being the sucker for animals that I am, I walked towards the pup, as it meandered from the street into one of my neighbors' driveways.
I approached as it continued to wander, and I leaned over to touch it (I've been rabies vaccinated, so no worries there), whereupon it jerked--the thing hadn't noticed me at all, even when I was so close. I checked its neck--no collar, but it wasn't acting hostile in the least (thankfully). The fur was smooth, and decently clean--it hadn't been out, alone, for very long. But one eye had less of a pupil and more like an egg white, and no amount of noise seemed to attract the dog's attention--its ears never moved to perceive the sound better, and the whole neighborhood was quiet.
So there I sat, in front of a near-deaf, half-blind small dog with no collar, which I hadn't seen before in the neighborhood, at 3am when I couldn't possibly wake the neighbors to see if they recognized it.
What could I do? I walked away, and went home. And even though I know there's nothing really that I could do for this dog right now, I also know that it's going to bother me that I couldn't help SOMEHOW. <p><span style="font-size:xx-small;">"When I started training in Gung Fu, a punch was just a punch, and a kick was just a kick.
After training for a few years, a punch was much more than a punch and a kick was more
than just a kick. Now that I have trained a long time, a punch is just a punch and
a kick is just a kick."
-Bruce Lee, "The Tao of Jeet Kune Do"</span></p>