We had been out all day yesterday and arrived home to find a strange 'hound' wandering about the place. He seemed friendly enough but was in a terrible condition. No hair on his buttocks or his elbows, small wounds on his face and head and looked as if he needed a good bath. He wasn't wearing a collar.
He stood quietly while I put a lead round his neck and then I walked him down to our nearest neighbours, a few mins away, to see if they recognised him. They gave several suggestions so I walked him back home while OH took the car to see one of the 'suggestions'.
I put him in the stable a fed him, he seemed ravenous, nearly knocking the food out of my hands.
The upshot was that he belongs to the local hunt master. The daughter, a teenager, had taken him with her earlier that afternoon when she went out with the horses and 'doesn't remember' if she brought him home or not

.
Anyway, mum and daughter turned up in a van to get Buster back.
I told them that I had fed him, they said thanks and went.
Now I am feeling quilty that I didn't say anything about the condition he was in.
Sally