The first night of our new dog’s life with us went well.

Toby’s his name. He isn’t exactly the kind of dog my wife and I envisioned getting when we realized the time was right. However, he’s quite sweet and well-behaved. We had talked about getting a medium-sized dog, a mutt, a pet that would require as little care as possible.

What we have now appears to be a young-ish smaller dog, a mixed breed. He appears to be a cross between — and this is just a guess — a Chihuahua and a Dachshund. Our veterinarian will be able to give us a better idea.

Now comes the question with which I am wrestling: Do I confront his former owners and tell them what despicable low-lives they are?

I’ve already told the story of how we came to acquire little Toby.

I’m now torn between two instincts: One is to let the former owners’ horrible behavior go unanswered. It was that behavior that compelled them to turn their little dog loose on the streets, to fend for himself with the hope that someone would come along and rescue him. In that regard, the cretins accomplished their goal. Someone did find the little guy. Our great-niece brought him to us and, as fate would have it, he now has become a member of our family — pending our two cats’ approval, which we expect they’ll grant eventually, albeit grudgingly.

Do I want them to sit in their house, all smug and thinking they had succeeded in their terrible strategy?

No I don’t.

That’s why I’m wrestling with the temptation to find them, introduce myself to them and then tell them why I detest what they did. I also feel as though I need an answer to this question: Why in the world didn’t you take the dog to the SPCA, a no-kill shelter just south of town, and have them put the dog up for adoption? Guaranteed, this pooch would be snapped up immediately at the SPCA’s weekly pet adoption program at Pet Smart.

These idiots aren’t exactly neighbors. They live apparently a couple of blocks north of us and around the corner.

Any suggestions would be helpful.

I’m all ears.