“…We headed north in our vehicles, and we soon spotted him trudging down an alley in search of food. I couldn’t believe how thin, haggard and miserable he looked. When he spotted us following him, he began walking a little faster, not knowing that we wanted to help, not hurt him.
We were finally able to corral him in that alley, and when I carried him to my truck, I sadly realized what a truly horrid condition he was in. He was thin– far too thin and his matted, mangled fur was filthy, and it was drenched in some sort of putrid smelling tar and oil.
At the animal hospital, the vet couldn’t believe his horrendous condition. “He’s at least fifteen pounds underweight, and God only knows what this terrible smelling gunk on his coat is. He doesn’t have a microchip, and he’s not neutered, and I’d say that he’s at least eight or nine years old. What are you going to name this one?”