By Frodo13   Wed, May 14, 2008

We took advantage of the great spring weather two weeks ago and introduced a few friends to Geocaching. One of our friends was here from Poland on a UAB fellowship and was leaving the following Wednesday. The date was selected for us. More about timing later.

We made our plans for hiking the Moss Rock Preserve in Hoover, Alabama . With backpacks, bug spray and sandwiches loaded, applied and stowed we headed out. It only took a few minutes to explain Geocaching and the GPSr.

We all headed along the upper power line trail and then dove down into the woods following the little arrow.

Our first stop was on a nice sandstone bald where we could hear lots of other folks enjoying the perfect weather. The preserve is plenty large to accommodate lots of folks and today it seemed every other hiker had a dog, most very stylish with a colored bandanna or fancy collar.

The five of us bounced along the trail until we came to the creek and then decided to take a short detour and grab the first-ever cache for our trio of newbies, which was only a few hundred yards up the trail.

Arriving at the coordinates they all asked "Where is it?"... or at least I think that's what they said, as it was in Polish. They may have been commenting on my keen navigational skills, but I doubt it. My wife Aleksandra interpreted and explained a bit more about the hunt and what size container we were searching for. I was now walking in ever-larger circles (very similar to the caching dance) and the rest of our troop began scouring the sticker bushes and poisonous plants looking for a plastic box full of McToys. No surprise that after a few minutes Aleksandra called out that she had found it. The plebes were very impressed and quickly asked where the next one was. They were hooked.

We located a few more and found ourselves almost at the middle school, so we plopped down on some rocks near the creek for lunch. Food tastes better on the trail, no matter what kind or what trail. As we munched and chatted a slender black Doberman Pincer pranced up and started sniffing. She was silent and wound her way over the rocks as we dropped little bits of our lunch. We all noticed how very skinny she was and then saw that she had a pretty bad case of mange. She had a leash and we all assumed she must have just escaped from her master who would be down the trail looking for her any minute.

The dog was hungry. Not 'I'm a dog so I will eat anything' hungry, but really skin-and-bones hungry. She never growled or made any aggressive moves, she was just too hungry. One of our group picked up her leash and began looking for a name tag. Nothing, and the leash was loose and dirty from being dragged around the park.

After ten minutes we started thinking about what we should do. As others came down the trail we asked if they knew the dog, or had seen her before. It was clear to us that she was a well-trained dog because she listened and would heel or sit when asked. Her eyes were cloudy and the more we observed her the more we became convinced that she was on her own and needed more than a few bites of our lunch. From what we could tell she may have been alone for days maybe even a week or more hunting scraps and getting weaker.

Our cars were on the complete other end of the park so we needed a plan. Cell phones ready... dial. We called all sorts of numbers and finally arrived at 911 since none of the animal shelters, animal control or animal anything agencies would answer the phone on a weekend.

I explained that we were hiking and found a lost dog that was in trouble and could the operator help us out.

Fast forward 35 minutes of calls, messages, more calls and some gentle persuasion (relative term, gentle) we convinced the City of Hoover animal control agent (who does not work on weekends - seriously) to meet us and pick up the dog.

Another hour passed and the dog started perking up from the lunch and four tasty kielbasas that kept appearing from one of the backpacks. Officer "X" arrived and didn't say a word. We filled out a form and found out where he was going to take the animal. Still not completely comfortable, we made sure to follow up. We felt pretty proud of ourselves and wondered how many other folks had seen the dog and thought as we had that she must have just gotten away and her owner would be calling for her any minute.

We watched the truck drive off and headed to other way back up the trail. We all agreed that we were in the right place and the right time. A few minutes either way and who knows.

Postscript: The next Monday one of our team called the Vestavia Animal Clinic to inquire about the dog and was told that she was eating and had been given an antibiotic shot. They didn’t say how long they could keep her, and we feared the worst. Emails were sent out Sunday asking if there was anyone who had a home for an adult dog. We were amazed at the number of responses. One of the first people to answer had just the place. A few phone calls and some paperwork had the dog adopted by a person who had lost a Doberman just a year ago.

It really worked out great and all because we wanted to introduce some friends to geocaching.

As it turns out we did something a whole lot more important than that.