The lost dog story has me reminiscing of two occasions that our family rescued dogs who had apparently lost their "people". The first was an adorable Dachsund Cameron encountered one evening as she walked home from a friend's house. This was also prior to Zoe and Luci joining our family and our children longed to own a dog. I am allergic to dogs and cats so this was always a hard topic for me. I am a dog lover and at this time did not know there was such a thing as a "hypo allergenic" dog. In any event, Cameron walked in that evening holding the young dog close, saying she had found him and, of course, wanting to know if we could keep him. I agreed with her that he was a cutie and that I would love to keep him but reminded her of my allergy to dogs and told her that he obviously belonged to someone else. He was well cared for and he was wearing a collar. The collar gave no indication as to who he belonged so I told Cameron we would have to post signs in the neighborhood to help find his owner. The usual begging and pleading ensued but I stood my ground and told her she would have to make signs the following day. "It was the right thing to do." She made a good argument as she countered, saying, "well, if his owners don't care enough about him than to let him roam the streets at night then they don't deserve him!" I told her that, yes, that might be the case but maybe he just got out and to imagine how sad someone must be to have lost their dog, especially if it was another child. I did allow that if no one responded to her signs that we would "consider" keeping him. She stomped off to her room. The next morning I told her it was time to make signs. She went into her room and dutifully made the signs and even rode her bike around the neighborhood with a hammer and nails, nailing them to telephone poles. She came home and we began our wait. I was quite surprised that we did not receive a phone call right away. I'm not exactly sure how much time had passed but I could tell that Cameron was beginning to imagine herself the proud new owner of a Dachsund puppy. Hmmmm...I was puzzled. The mystery was solved when I set out to run errands one day and came across one of her signs. They were written in yellow HI LITER! Yes, yellow hi liter! I couldn't help giggling to myself at her attempts to keep this little puppy. He was such a cutie! Long story short, someone did decipher her signs (and actually before I got around to writing over the yellow hi liter) and the puppy was reunited with his rightful family. They were very happy and grateful, even rewarding Cameron for her good citizenship with a cute little stuffed wienie dog. It was of little consolation to her but at least she did learn a valuable life lesson.
The second "lost dog" story for your enjoyment (you are enjoying this, right?) occurred about two years ago. I was driving home from the feed store when Jacque called to say that there was a little puppy on our front porch. "Oh, my goodness!" I said, "where did he come from?" She said she didn't know, that he was just lying by our front door when she got home. I asked her what he looked like, if she recognized him as one of the neighbors' dogs to which she replied no. I told her I would be home in a few minutes and we would talk about it more when I got there. It was raining and she told me that he was cold and shaking and that she had put a cover over him. She also threw in how darn cute he was. Great, I thought to myself. They are going to want to keep him. Not that I am opposed to dogs, but two are definitely enough. Our oldest Maltipoo, Zoe, is not too fond of newcomers anyway. I started lecturing myself, saying in my head "no matter how much they beg and plead you cannot keep this dog!" When I got home all of the kids were on the front porch huddled around the little guy. They had him wrapped in a towel and were saying things like, "awwwww, look momma, isn't he sooooo cute, poor thing, he's cold." and the inevitable "can we keep him? He's so cute!" "No, no," I said, "we already have two dogs and I'm SURE he belongs to someone and besides, you know I am allergic to that kind of dog. We just can't keep him. We'll put up signs and if no one claims him then we will try to find him a good home." I sat down on the bench outside to check him out. My kids know how soft hearted I am and started pleading again. "PLEEZE, momma, can we keep him, please?! We already have a name picked out for him!" "Oh, gawd! No guys we can't keep him. I'm sure he already has a name AND an owner." "PLEASE!!!" they cried in unison. "What did you name him?" I asked as I felt my resolve weakening. "GOLD WIENER" they shouted. "Gold Wiener?" I asked incredulously and a quick look to the referenced anatomy explained the name. The dog did in fact have a gold...well, errrr....wiener. "Ewwww," I said. "I don't even like boy dogs. No, we can't keep him." I should probably explain that the propensity for naming animals in such a fashion is something we have always done. After all, we had Hefty the cat who wiled her way into our home via our trash can. Hefty came to us pregnant and died a short time after giving birth to three adorable kittens which we bottle fed and named Houdini (because he escaped the kennel frequently), Evinrude (because she purred like a motor boat) and Norman Bates (because he acted so crazy when nursing on his bottle). There has also been Piccolina (the Italian word for small) the pig; Bluebonnet, our cat with incredibly blue eyes, a white puppy named Desdemona and of course our Brahman calf, aptly named Cassius Clay because he had to put up a good fight to enter this world. I could go on, but you get the idea!
Anyway, I really have always had a diversion to boy dogs. Maybe it's because they hike their legs on things or maybe I just can't get past that day so long ago when Cameron asked me, "Mommy, why does that dog have a red crayon?" So I knew in my heart that even if someone didn't claim this dog, we weren't keeping him. After all, he had that gold wiener! :-) I told the kids they could bring him in and put him in the garage. We fed him and made a bed and as I suspected, Zoe hated him. I would open the garage door to check on him and feel so guilty about not letting him in the house. Gold Wiener, on the other hand, was just grateful to be in out of the rain. The next day we put out signs and began the wait and that's when GW started working on melting my heart.
As time went on I told myself how mean I was being by making GW stay in the garage. I mean, he went outside to potty but he KNEW there were two other dogs living inside. Gradually I began to allow him in the house for small amounts of time. He was sooo sweet and so unassuming as Zoe promptly bossed him around. And much to my amazement, he didn't seem to bother my allergies. Gold Wiener was a good listener too. He wasn't offended that he wasn't allowed on the furniture or that I insisted on keeping him within my field of vision. Eventually, GW was spending more and more time in the house instead of in the garage. Why, I am quite sure he felt as though he was a member of our family. I even let him lay on the couch with me at night with the other dogs to watch TV. Honestly, I thought, if he keeps that gold wiener to himself, I just might be able to live with this dog!
I'm sure David suspected this because as quickly as I was becoming accustomed to the idea of having three dogs he began an intense quest to find GW a home. Oh, don't get me wrong, David liked GW too, but, he knew we didn't need yet another animal to care for. I conceded as our neighbor showed an interest in him. That would be perfect, I imagined. Gold Wiener could live next door and we could visit him. But, alas, she decided against it. The next candidate was a co-worker of David's named Manuel. David said Manuel would be stopping by to see Gold Wiener and to decide if he wanted to have him as his very own. A couple of days went by and Manuel didn't come and once again I was secretly happy to be the owner of three dogs. I had become quite fond of GW. I remember one night in particular. I was laying on the couch watching movies. I had allowed GW to lay on the covers with me and dozed off only to wake with not just one dog lying asleep beside me...but three...and I thought, "Oh, what a lucky girl am I!" HA! Just as I was beginning to think Manuel had forgotten about GW, David came home from work with him. Manuel came in and I sat in the chair, holding GW and petting him, trying to fight back the tears, telling Manuel that if he needed to go home and think about it that I was totally okay with that. "No," he said, "I'll take him." Can you believe it? Here I sat crying over a dog I wasn't going to keep, wouldn't let in the house, thought I would be allergic to, absolutely hated his gold wiener and yet...somehow, I had grown attached! I handed Gold Wiener over to Manuel with strict instructions on how to be a good pet owner and turned to go back in the house. David came in trying to comfort me but I have to admit I had a good cry. The next day David came home with news that Gold Wiener had been renamed as Biscuit (perhaps it was for the best) and had taken his first shopping trip to Pet Smart where his new owners had bought him a dog carrier, new bowls and collar, treats and a t-shirt. Well, I did feel better and I really don't think we could have found a better home for him. Biscuit is Manuel's wife's constant companion every where she goes and they love him very much. So, now instead of being Gold Wiener the Garage Dweller he is Biscuit on a Pedestal. I suppose it was a job well done on our part and I know that he lives in a happy home.
Here is a picture of Gold Wiener at the annual company picnic which he attended with his new family.
And here he is with his new family:
Last but not least, the house dwellers, Zoe and Luci on vacation this year at Garner State Park. Can you tell who is the boss? See Zoe's protege over there on the left...she won't even look at Zoe but she does believe in fair and equal treatment, especially when it comes to food!
Now, if only Nell would come home I would feel all better. I'm not throwing in the towel just yet!
I'll talk about vacation later. It was another great year on the Frio, enjoyed with friends and family and filled with fun and laughter.
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