News from the Tennessee Valley Columnists
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 4, 2005
SCOTT MORRIS | COLUMNISTS | HOME | FORUMS | ARCHIVES

SCOTT MORRIS

Boomerang flies straight back ‘home’

We'll call him Boomerang for obvious reasons.

The muscular chocolate Labrador retriever briefly jogged into our lives on a sunny fall afternoon.

Jenny and I were walking for exercise near our house when Steve jogged up with Boomerang at his side. We greeted each other and Steve continued his run.

But Boomerang seemed determined to stay.

"What should we feed him?" I shouted at Steve, who didn't seem concerned about losing his best friend.

"I don't know," Steve yelled back. "He's not mine. He followed me from Willard's house."

I was beginning to think we'd have another mouth to feed until Boomerang left us and raced after his jogging buddy.

My next thought was that Boomerang is about to meet the Hound from Hell, who happens to live just down the road.

About the time we got back to the house, we heard high-pitched yelping from the general vicinity of hell. A few minutes later, Boomerang was looking in our back door, wounded and tongue-dragging tired.

I took a Tupperware bowl of water out to him and checked his wounds. He was bleeding around the mouth and legs, but didn't seem badly injured.

I went back inside and called Willard to come and get his dog. No one answered.

About an hour later, we left the house in the car and Boomerang ran after us.

The great thing about having deep roots in the country is knowing where everybody lives. I decided to drive slowly and see if Boomerang would chase us all the way back to Willard's house, about 1½ miles away. He did.

Willard wasn't home, but two of his other dogs welcomed Boomerang like an old friend. They wagged their tails and licked his wounds.

"Boy, Willard sure has a lot of dogs," I thought to myself.

I glowed inside because of my good deed, knowing Willard would be relieved to have his faithful canine back home.

That night at the Thanksgiving church supper, I saw Willard's Aunt Lula, who lives next door to him.

"Does Willard have a chocolate lab?" I asked, fishing for a chance to brag about my noble act.

"No," she said, "but we've been trying to get rid of one all week."

Aunt Lula sounded slightly irritated as she explained that the exuberant stray lab had knocked her down and bruised her arm.

Uh-oh.

Since then, we've received unconfirmed reports that Willard threatened to send Boomerang back our way.

That's OK.

We know where Boomerang's jogging buddy lives.

Scott Morris Scott Morris
DAILY City Editor

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