When I lived out in the country, the sweetest pittie ever would come to our house. She lived close by rural standards. I looked up my landlord's mother's obituary, got the name of his sister, called her. Sure enough, she knew who the dog belonged to and the man's phone number.
He came by our house several times to pick up his dog. She was a total joy, but her heart belonged to another. Several more times, she would be in our yard when my sons came home. She'd jump right in the car with them and my sons would bring her to her house.
I wasn't going to leave her running around because because traffic on our 35 mph country road usually moved at 60+ miles per hour. She wasn't going to get hit by a car on my watch.