In Athens last month, visiting the ghetto that I grew up in, my daughter and I came across a stray dog. She was huddled beneath the entry of the building that I used to live in and despite the heat that day, she was visibly shaking. Tiny and malnourished, covered in insect bites, she seemed to be frightened of everything in sight. Except for us.
Despite her state, and the (very loud) warnings of our concerned taxi driver, I was overcome by an inexplicable need to draw her out of her hiding place and into my arms. It took her some time to sniff her way out and allow me to pick her up. As I held her, Zuri and I looked at one another and we knew that we could not leave her there. Unfortunately, the taxi driver refused to have her in the car with us, so Z and I walked back to our hotel with the shivering puppy still in my arms.
An hour later, we arrived and asked the concierge to locate the nearest veterinary hospital. Luckily, it was not too far from where we were staying. While we waited to find out what options were available to us, the stray curled into my lap and fell asleep. After a time, we found out that she was unregistered and had not been microchipped, and that it wasn't uncommon considering where we had found her. There was also no telling whether she had all the appropriate vaccinations. Again, Z and I had the same thought, adamant that we would get her the help that she needed.
And so, today I am happy and humbled to announce that after a long and arduous process with the CDC, that we did find her owner.
Welcome home, Athena. We are so happy to have you.
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September 8, 2017
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