Inquirer: Everyone should be happy with how Angel's story ended

Chuck is no Angel.

Or maybe it's the other way around.

Readers will recall that I wrote last week about a stray dog that was causing trouble in the Kingston neighborhood. Long story short, the dog was by some accounts terrorizing the place and Animal Control was being thwarted from catching it by other neighbors who loved the dog.

After months of neighborhood hassles and division over the dog, it was finally caught, taken to a vet for shots and registration, and relocated to a new home.

I jokingly named the dog Chuck, because I knew neither its name nor its gender. Well, as it turns out, Chuck is a girl dog, and her name is actually Angel.

But that wasn't all I got wrong, at least in the eyes of many readers. In online comments and in emails, I was hammered by folks who said Angel is the sweetest thing to set foot on this planet in the last 2,015 years, if you get my drift.

OK, some folks say Angel was just that, an angel who wouldn't scratch a flea off her back, but would instead turn and ask him if he wanted some mustard with that.

Still others persisted in their assessment of Angel as an aggressive stray who wandered the neighborhood, scared children and chased bicyclists, nipping at their heels.

So as a disinterested third party, I am going to put Angel's demeanor solidly in the category of "it's a matter of opinion."

But what is a matter of FACT is that the dog was a stray, roaming a neighborhood, pooping and digging in people's yards, turning over trash cans and doing so while being unlicensed and -- most importantly -- unvaccinated.

"I wouldn't want to live in a neighborhood with a dog like that wandering around," I told one complaining caller.

"Then you should move," she said.

Really?

"Sorry, lady," I said. "I pay taxes; the dog doesn't."

That's when she called me an ---hole. But I've been called worse. By family.

The fact is, I love dogs. I've had dogs for much of my life. In fact, the best one was a German shepherd, the breed with which Angel obviously shares much of her heritage. I called her Mercedes, because it's a German name and it was the only way a print journalist was ever going to own a Mercedes.

I digress here, but the point is, I love dogs, especially German shepherds.

So as I heard from more and more readers on both sides, and considering my history of loving German shepherds, I warmed a little more to Angel's defenders. Not so much to the ones who called me names, even if they may have had a point. But still I warmed, and "warmed" is an important word at this point in this saga.

As I started writing this column last week amid the hail of abuse raining down on me, it was a frigid night. It was around freezing outside with a stiff wind driving the wind chill even lower when I saw an email from one of Angel's supporters. It included an attached photo of Angel in her new home, curled up and comfy, looking sweet as could be.

The sender's stated intent was to show me that Angel is just that, a quiet loving dog, serenely enjoying an evening in a loving home. So I should be ashamed of myself for portraying her otherwise.

Instead, it made me wonder why anyone, and I mean anyone, involved in this brouhaha could possibly be saddened, much less angered, by the outcome.

Yes, Angel looks like a sweet dog in the picture. But more importantly, she looks like a comfortable dog, a warm dog. She's a formerly homeless dog who has found a good home where people bring her in on a night like this. She's no longer outside huddled against the cold by night and wedged between angry neighbors who love and hate her by day.

She's warm in a loving home. And isn't that where an Angel belongs?

Seen something that needs attention? Contact me at 706-571-8570 or mowen@ledger-enquirer.com.

This story was originally published February 1, 2015 at 8:40 PM with the headline "Inquirer: Everyone should be happy with how Angel's story ended."