I was riding through the middle of Ouachita National Forest when I saw this little guy aimlessly walking along the side of the road. It was miles to the nearest civilization, so I pulled over and he came running over with full force - almost tackled me when he jumped on me. He was whimpering and licking me non-stop, and took forever to get him to sit still enough to read his tag. The tag had his owners name and phone number, so I go to dial it in my phone, but had no service.
Just as I was about to break out whatever remaining bungee cords and rope I had to strap him on my bike, a truck comes rolling up the road. I flag it down and it pulls over, a woman is riding shotgun and rolls her window down. I tell her the story, and she rolls her eyes and in the heaviest southern accent you can imagine she says "that's his brothers dog" as she points to the driver. She gets out and picks the little guy up and said "it's hunting' season - this one was out to get bucks". After tucking him in the back of the truck, she thanked me and they took off.
Totally happy that it all just happened to work out like it did for the little guy, but also kind of bummed because for a split second I thought I'd gained a travel companion. He was a little bad ass.
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