Can’t Put A Leash On A Good Deed

(I’m 15, and my St Bernard Garrus (yes, that’s his name — I like Mass Effect) has the annoying habit of bolting down the street every now and then. I assume this is because I used to walk him when he was a puppy, but as he got older it became harder, and more dangerous to walk him, as big dogs can get arthritis in their joints fairly easily. Usually, Garrus would go along the same path that I used to walk him on, but this time I’ve chased him the entire way up my street which is over a kilometre long, all with no phone, no bike, and no leash. I’m currently sitting with Garrus, holding his collar, trying to catch my breath. I’m asthmatic, with no puffer. An older lady whom I recognise stops in front of us in her car.)

Lady: “Are you two all right?”

Me: *still panting* “Yeah. I’ve just chased this lug all the way from the other end of the street.”

Lady: “Do you have a leash?”

Me: “No, he made a break for it. He’s more than slightly adventurous…”

Lady: “You know what? I live five houses down from you. Just a second, and you two can get in and I’ll drive you.”

(The lady gets a blanket out of her boot which is already covered in dog hair from her dogs, and lays it over the back seat of her car.)

Lady: “In you get, then.”

(I got Garrus into the car, which wasn’t too difficult; like most dogs, he enjoys car rides. The lady drove us to her house, and gave me a leash, which I later returned, to use to get Garrus back to the house safely. To the lady who helped me and my dog get back to our house safely and quickly: thank you SO much.)