We Don’t Need Another Dog

After all, in my busy life, I barely had enough time to walk my grand dog, Fiona, a gorgeous 70-pound Colorado Mountain Dog who moved in with me when my daughter did. The pup is a new breed, a careful mix of Great Pyrenees, Anatolian Shephard, and Maremma.  She does not need a lot of exercise. She was bred to guard livestock–regal, loyal, a gorgeous white baby with kind, black eyes. At four months old, she had lived in a corral in Colorado with cats and goats. When she arrived in a crate at John Wayne Airport, she had never been inside, terrified of every sound, never even having been through a doorway. My daughter took her in and loved her immediately.

My daughter, an animal lover from birth, has brought home the lost and forlorn of every kind since she was a small child, even spiders and frogs. She was a well-liked kid at school and sometimes brought home some from class who were lonely and needed a friend. She made sure that they were included and accepted in her circle. But that’s another whole story.

A few months after Fiona arrived, as she and Fiona were out walking one chilly night in Stacey’s nearby huge, shaded neighborhood, Fiona spotted a shivering, frightened chihuahua hiding in the bushes. Neighbors told her that he had been there for 2 weeks but would not come out for anyone who had tried to help him. But, oh, when he saw the gentle Fiona, out he came feeling safe at last. Stacey brought the skinny, frightened baby home with her and we named him Scooter because he seemed to respond to that name. Hoping to find the owner, she knocked on doors in the neighborhood, even putting up posters and going online. No one responded. Two weeks passed.

Uh-oh. Meanwhile we were becoming attached to this little brown dog with big brown eyes. What a cheerful, happy fur baby he was, always eager to dish out love and licks any moment of the day. I wish I could wake up as bright and cheerful as these two babies do. He never tries to run away even if we accidently leave the garage door open. It is as if he is grateful to have a good home where he knows he is loved. He just wants to be with Fiona and us, sleeping happily curled up between Fiona’s paws with his head resting on her fluffy white tail. Safe at last.

I have wondered why Fiona is not jealous of the belly rubs we delightfully give to Scooter who climbs into our laps whenever we sit down. But, ever the nurturer, it simply is not in Fiona’s nature. In fact, they are the best thing that ever happened to each other! Since Fiona is naturally shy, Scooter, the energy machine, brings her out as they wildly chase each other through the house, up and down the stairs, a streak of fur tails flying and ending up as one big ball of fluff tumbling together with one of them rolling over as the other one licks and gently paws the other.

You see, our daughters were raised from birth with large dogs, German Shepherds, Malamutes, and Collie mixes and took their first steps leaning on our Collie-Shepard, Luddie. (That’s short for Ludwig Von Beethoven).

But this tiny Scooter was different. This was a necessary rescue. Temporary. We thought. Surely, the previous owner was missing him terribly. Broken hearted, maybe. So, out of concern, we took Scooter to the vet who, by law, had to call the owner after finding a chip in Scooter’s ear. A gruff sounding man answered the call. “No, we haven’t even missed him. In fact, when my wife finally noticed that he was gone, I replaced him, and my wife doesn’t seem to know the difference.” The cruel owner, we would soon figure out.

How did we figure out that this poor little lamb had been abused? Well, I took out the broom to sweep the kitchen floor one morning and our terrified pup ran for cover, shaking. Oh, no! In addition, he would not let any men close to him, even loving male family and friends. Later, neighbors confirmed that they had seen him being cruelly teased and left out for months at a time by the previous owner. So, our hearts were with the innocent pup and, as you have guessed, the bonding had begun from the very first day.

We watched in amazement as our shy 70-pound white angel welcomed the tiny little Scooter as if he were her baby, and she, as if she were his mother, ever protecting him. In fact, Fiona will not eat her dinner as she lies on the kitchen floor by their dishes until Scooter finishes his dinner first. Since both babies were less than a year old, they have grown up together with Scooter sleeping curled safely between Fiona’s paws with his head on her fluffy tale.

For eleven years they have had daily romps racing through my townhome up and down the stairs, around the kitchen bar, Scooter, giving as good as he gets, in the chase with joyful barks and wagging tails, a streak of white fur and a tiny shadow of brown chasing the white streak. Finally, rolling over with each and then cuddling up together for a nap.

On our walks, neighbors always comment on the beauty of Fiona, “What kind of dog is she? Does she have to be brushed a lot? Why is she so protective of Scooter?” Rarely did they notice Scooter, just another brown dog.  We have had to admit that we paid more attention to Fiona for a long time because she is so beautiful, gentle, and sweet. But Scooter wakes up every day bouncing with joy, so happy to see us, so, well, grateful. I want to be more like that.

They have lived 11 years in this happy state. No, we have never tried to find a home for Scooter. After all, he was family from day one, blossoming as Fiona makes him feel safe and protected, and has even learned to be friendly with some men.  Scooter has taught Fiona to be more outgoing. In fact, Fiona first barked at the door after watching Scooter do it.

What have I learned from these two cuddle bugs peacefully sleeping on my bed in one huge pile of fluff? Life has not always worked out exactly as I have planned. My prejudgments that only big dogs are best for us was wrong. The unexpected happens sometimes for the good to take me out of my comfort zone. That little brown dog, unwanted, has brought joy to my life. I’ve learned that I can welcome the unwelcomed, the discarded, the forlorn, and am surprised at how rewarding that can be.

I want to apply those lessons to my life, to look for the helpless hiding in the bushes of life, overlooked, the unattractive, who are starving for someone to notice them. It costs me nothing to share a kind word or be a resource to find help for them in some area of their life. After all, we are all strays in one way or another.

Maybe I can extend a lifeline at just the right moment, in big or small ways, if I will just look, just like one person did for me when, as a small child, I was unwanted, a burden, unattractive, scared, neglected and even left behind. After all, I was like that little stray who could not help herself.

Do you know anyone like that? God sent someone into my life unexpectedly to rescue me at just the right time. She was looking for a way to help. She saw the need. Yes, I can look for ways to be that one person just as That One Person showed up for me when I was six years old. But that’s another story…

Maybe you can be That One Person, too.

Annie

 

Enjoy reading Annie’s recently published inspirational memoir available on Amazon.com for $15.95 (paperback), and on Kindle for $9.99. Endorsed by Pat Boone and 18 others, it has numerous 5 star reviews. It makes a great gift!