One warm summer day in 1995, as I was sitting
in my car waiting for a friend,
who was in the Social Security Office,
and watching all the people and traffic going by, when
my eyes caught sight of a small dog staggering
along the walk on the opposite side of this very busy street.

The dog was going house to house and walking up to people
but no one paid attention. A lady came out her front door,
apparently to get her mail. The dog went up to her
but she kicked it away. My heart sank a little bit right then.
The little dog then wandered into the street,
in front of cars that fortunately did go around
her though no one stopped.

Hurriedly I got out of the car, stepping into the
street and slowing traffic down, so that I
could get to her. A white bakery truck was so close
to hitting her. My heart raced as I
watched her stagger near the truck, but he missed her.
Then I stopped all traffic, reached down, picked
her up, and put her in my car.

She was tan in color, very thin, dirty and smelly,
her fur matted tight to her skin. She had on a blue collar
with an outdated license. We went to the court
house and got the name of her owners.
The address given was ten blocks away from where I found her.
Definitely a lot of dangerous streets for a dog to be wandering.         

It was a double house, in a fairly nice looking neighborhood.
I checked the street number I was given, to be sure
to have the right side. I knocked on the door, but
no response. I looked in the window only to see bare rooms.

I then knocked on the door to the other side. A man answered.
He was nice, but straight forward. He told me how
the owners had moved away SIX weeks ago, and left her behind.
He said when they had her, the man kicked her
and he could hear her yelp, and the best
thing I could do for this dog is keep her.           

So there I was, with a little frightened dog,
trying to decide - what now?
I already had three dogs at home,
and didn't really need another one.
But this dog needed care so I
decided to take her to my veterinarian.
It was late, so hopefully the vet office would still be open.          

Now, talk about how God intervenes.
The veterinarian was there, and about ready
to close her office for the day,
but she agreed to look at the dog.
The doctor said, it is very unusual for her groomer
to be there at that hour, but if after she checks her over,
for disease etc., and if I wanted the groomer
to clean her up, she would stay and do so.

The dog was a Shih Tzu, between eight & eleven years
old, and basically in good health.

The groomer clipped the matted fur off, bathed her,
and the doctor treated the sores
on her body. I was to take her back in three weeks,
after she had time to gain strength, and some
weight, before giving her all her shots.
Now I needed to give her a name for the chart.
The only thing I could think of was Little Orphan Annie.
When I took her home, I changed her name to Anniebelle.