When Oh Papa was first listed on Petfinder by the Mayor’s Alliance for NYC’s Animals, he was called Red. It’s funny to think of him having that name, even for only a few days. Every once in a while I say it to him, to see if he remembers the time before we met. What I’m really hoping for is for him to tell me where he came from. His first year is such a mystery. He was hit by either one or two cars, accounts vary but it’s too heartbreaking to think of it happening twice and so I always say one. Someone saw him and brought him to the hospital, where the kind doctors patched him all up. His bills were paid for by the Picasso Veterinary Fund, an incredible fund that covers the medical needs of injured abandoned animals. I was unsure about getting a dog for all the reasons everyone gives. I went to the hospital and they let him out of the cage where he was recuperating. He was wearing a cone around his neck and his left back leg was shaved. He was so well taken care of by everyone there. He walked right up to me, laid his chin in my lap and he was mine. I hear similar stories a lot from other people. Not the hospital part or the getting hit by a car part but the part where they just had this immediate conviction that this dog belonged with them. I feel this so strongly that it seems like even if I hadn’t gone to the hospital that day, Oh Papa would’ve been waiting for me on my doorstep when I got home.
About the Author
Starlee Kine is a public radio producer and writer based in New York City. She is a regular contributor to This American Life. She loves very good or very bad television. She writes about the good shows at Capital and the bad ones at Vulture.
