a puppy named Po

The other morning, after I dropped my daughter off at school, I saw a little dog with a pushed in nose out on the sidewalk. As he had tags, and there was no person

in sight, I figured he had no business being out on his own. So I pulled over and spoke to him about it. At first, he just yelled at me, like it was my fault for interrupting his adventure, but eventually he came to see my point and let me take a look at his tags. The voice mail box for the phone number I called was full and so I took him to what I thought was his home. Turns out it was across the street from his home but these neighbors told me that he's out all the time and he's going to get run over. So I take Po - that's his name - down to the police department. They recognize him as a repeat offender and advise me to take him up to a bed and breakfast for puppies that holds onto them until their owners collect them. So I did. Oh Po!
I told them to call me if he didn't get collected. And I haven't heard from them.
Next puppy story: this morning I am getting out of the car at my place and there's tagless puppy scampering along the sidewalk outside my door! I said "Hey! Who're you?" He came on over. As it was raining, I scooped him up, resolving to keep him warm and dry until we figured out who he belonged to. Then some gardeners came along and said that he was a neighbor's dog who they'd accidently let out of the yard. By that time I'd put the puppy inside my home, to the delight of my 2 year old. "Puppy!" he shrieked happily. At that point my husband stepped in. "Give them back the puppy." he said. "They need to put him back." I sighed and said "OK."

My husband then asked me if I wanted another dog. I denied it. Intellectually I don't want another dog. But if someone were to, say, toss a puppy my way...
well...
I'd have to catch it. Wouldn't I?