After the twelfth time retrieving the ball from across the living room, Darren had to accept it — he was playing fetch with himself. The dog was simply watching.

‘I’m telling you,’ said Darren. ‘This is fun. This is something all dogs love. I throw the ball, you grab it and bring it back.’

He tried one last throw and when the dog still didn’t move, he gave up and left the ball where it was.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘We’ll try again tomorrow.’

On that first day at the park, he’d taken the dog straight to the vet to check for a microchip. The dog had one, but the details hadn’t been updated in five years and the only phone number on file was disconnected.

‘He doesn’t look like he’s been properly cared for in a long time,’ the vet had commented. ‘So I’d say he didn’t just escape from a yard. I reckon he’s been wandering the burbs for a while.’

‘Any guess on breed?’ Darren had asked.

‘Likely a mix. The spots on his paws might indicate a bit of cattle dog in him.’

‘So how does this work? Can I just take him home?’

‘You truly want to keep him?’

‘Yep.’

The vet tapped his fingers against his chin. ‘Here’s the thing. I’m not supposed to release him straight to you. He’s meant to go to the pound and then you could follow up later. Try to adopt him through the proper channels.’

‘Come on, mate. You said yourself he hasn’t been looked after. Let me give him a good home.’

‘I do know the local pound is nearing capacity . . . All right, take him with you but maybe do your due diligence — check Facebook’s lost dog pages, keep an eye out for posters. You can put up your own post that you’ve found him if you want.’ He gave the dog a scratch behind the ears and the dog leaned into him. ‘Although like I said, even if he has just escaped from someone, whoever it was neglected him, in my opinion. So maybe don’t try too hard to find them.’

Darren had booked him back in for a more thorough check-up and to get all his shots and worming and flea tablets up to date. He’d also asked for a card for a good groomer so he could get him cleaned up as well.

He’d been torn about whether or not to put up a post on social media saying he’d found the dog. What if the vet was right and he had a shitty owner who’d been neglecting him? But then, what if he had a loving family who’d lost him years ago and were still searching?

Although if that was the case, how bloody hard was it to update the poor mutt’s microchip details?