Now I was worried. I live in Rocky Point with my free spirited ex-street dog Vago. Short for ‘Vagabundo’, it means ‘Bum’. And yes, he origianlly lived on the streets before I adopted him, but that’s not why he had the name. Vago also means astute, someone who lives by his wits. So when he occasionally took off for a few hours or a day, I accepted that he knew what he wanted to do, and that he could handle himself.
Now, however, it had been few days.
Talking to the local dog catcher didn’t produce any results. Niether did driving around the beach houses in my neighborhood. Other times when Vago was not at home, I would find him sitting on someones porch chewing on the ribs that he was being fed. Or get a call asking if he was ours, letting us know he had been there all afternoon and that they were just getting ready to feed him some more tamales, was that O.K.?
“Roscoe?’ I said out loud. Skimming through Facebook, I read a listing for local dogs and cats up for adoption. “Very friendly, good with people, likes walks on the beach.” Hmmm. Same color. Same smile. But something was different. This dog was definitley fatter. Could Roscoe be Vago?
Placing the ad was the Fundacion Efectivo Mascota. Rescuing animals, putting them in better health, and finding people looking for a new pet is just some of what they do. They coordinate vaccination and spay/neuter clinics too.
A clean and modern place, the Fundacion also offers pet grooming and Rocky Points’ only Pet Hotel. Doing business with them is a great way to support the local animal population.
“Oh Great!” said the young lady behind the counter. “We were just about to take him out of his pen for play time.” Wagging his tail, ready for play time with his new best friends, Roscoe pranced around the yard, then came to a complete stop as he looked at me. “Do I know Yo … ohh, your HERE!” Vago/Roscoe ran and put his paws up on my chest, looking like he wanted to tell me all about his latest adventure.
He looked really good. Bathed, nails clipped, well fed. “Can you help us and pay the adoption fee?” The young lady asked. Happy to do it, I wondered if any other dog in town been adopted twice.
“No, he didn’t have his tags when we got him” she told me. “A lady brought him in. She thought he must be lost.” “Who was it?” I asked. “Well, she’s the one who brings food to the street dogs in her car.” I give Vago a look. He just smiled.
