Picture it: east Dallas, late on a Saturday night/Sunday morning. I'm walking the mutts. So is a neighbor. Harriet, the big dog, sees what she thinks is a cat. The neighbor's dog sees it, too. Except it's not a cat. It's a small, shivering min pin.

Both the neighbor & I put our dogs in our houses. I go over to this little dog. I give it a minute to get used to me. He stops barking. He comes over and snuggles up to my leg. I ask the neighbor if he has a phone (mine was in the house.) He pulls out his phone & calls the 800 number on the tag. They tell us the dog is named Jack. They connect us to Jack's owner.
Jack's owner is shit-housed. He's trying to tell us where he is. He's too drunk. The neighbor & I start walking towards where we think he is. About a half a mile down the road, we see him. He's maybe 20, has braces and falls over when he sees us. Fuck.

We start trying to discern where this kid lives. He's having difficulty communicating. I tell the Neighbor that I'm going to get my car & for them to stay there. I run the half mile back to my house, grab my keys & phone & off we go.

This drunk kid has me driving in circles. The whole time, he's hugging Jack & crying. The kid's lip is bleeding. I'm losing patience. I finally yell ”what is your address?!?” He blurts it out. Yay, an actual destination!

We get the drunk kid to his address. We get out of the car. He looks at me & the neighbor and asks who has the keys. O.o Neither of us do!

We start knocking on the door. He explains that it's his sister's apartment and she's at work. It's now past 2am. The kid starts trying to open windows. I tell the neighbor that it's late, we've gotten them home & we're not even sure that this is the right place. I have no desire to get shot.

I ask the kid what his sister's name is & where she works. He tells me. We leave the kid at the house, I tell him to count to a thousand & we leave.

We stop twice on the way home, because the neighbor thinks he sees the keys. I drop the neighbor off, walk my dogs & sit on the couch.

I start thinking. I google the place where the kid said his sister works. I call. I get the manager. I relay the crazy tale & ask if he could pass the message in to this girl. He says she's right there & passes her the phone. I once again tell the crazy tale. She thanks me & says she'll head home right away.

Sunday, as I was having brunch with friends, I get a call. I don't recognize the number, so I don't answer. They leave a vm. It's the kid. He says he was pretty wasted, can't remember last night & could I help him piece it together & maybe find his car. I figure I've done enough favors for this kid (whom I don't know), and I don't know where his car is, so I don't call back.

Best of luck, though!