30 minutes later I came out and he was still in the parking lot, running around. This is right off of 21st, and I didn't want to see the dog get hurt. So I called to him and said 'let's go'. He followed me to my van and jumped right on in when I opened the door.
I called the number on the collar and left a message after the robotic voicemail intro. Welp, I don't have anything to do for an hour and a half, and the address is only about 2 miles away, I'll take the dog on home.
I get on down the road and turn in to the neighborhood off of Lewis. Gated community. I browse through the list of names on the buttons, but the dog tag doesn't have a name and the numbers aren't matching the number on the collar.
Just then someone was leaving the neighborhood. I waited until they turned and saw the exit gate was still open. After a half a heartbeat of debate, I let myself in.
This neighborhood was quite swank. All modern houses, decked out. Zillow listed the dog owner's house at $840k, in Oklahoma.
As I parked in front of Hank's house (that wasn't his name, but I already forgot it) he got excited. When I opened the door he ran right on up to the side garage door. He pawed at the door, and you could see his nail marks from years of having done this. But still, no answer at the door, no answer on the phone, and I needed to get to an appointment in little over an hour. I didn't really want to drop him off at a vet or at a shelter.
Then I noticed that his tag had a faintly engraved number on the back. Problem was, one of the numbers could have been a 0 or a 6, couldn't really tell. I went with the 6. No answer, but I left a message.
After a few minutes of uncomfortably waiting in a neighborhood quite a bit out of my league, I tried the front door, the side door, and then the back fence gate, which was unlocked. After opening it Hank ran right on in. So I closed the gate and slid the small cinder block in front.
2 hours later I got a call from a woman who was asking about her dog. I explained what happened and she said oh, well, okay, so he's at home? A few minutes later I get another phone call. Mr. Hank's dad, the lawyer, had brought Hank to work, since Mr. Hank's mom went out of town to visit family. After multiple reassurances that I had left hank at home, he thanked me and said he had to run home anyway for something.
So that's how I wound up temporarily stealing some lawyer's dog one day.