The One That Got Away

RIP: Earl Hindman

In August, I received a text message from a guy who wanted me to scan his dog for a microchip.  After setting up the appointment, I went to his house with all my gear, not just the scanner.  "Ian" instructed me where to park and was waiting on the other side of the fence when I arrived.   I pull up and see just the top of Ian's head over a fence and it all sort of looked like this...without the hat.  

Ok, it was a gate with wheels

  

So the fence was really much bigger.

Le Truck

Meanwhile, I get my grip, hop out of the truck, and forge ahead, not knowing what lay in store for me, as is usually the case.  

Ian opens the gate and out RUSHES this Tank Girl, cleverly disguised as a Bull Terrier, which most people are wont to describe as a Pit.  As she buckled my knees, my VERY first thought was of "Petey" of the Our Gang (Spanky, Alfafa, Darla, Buckwheat) Fame.  My first Pit: this should be interesting. And yet the last thing I thought of was being mauled.  

DOT THE MAGNIFICENT

"Dot" then proceeded to completely bathe me in kisses.  By the time she finished her "Welcome to Our House!" greeting, I was soaked, sopping, wringing wet.  My hair, my face, my ears, my neck down to my fingertips. Geez, she was scary. Cough. Ahem.  

She danced all over the place, whippy-tailed and loving.  Ian was pretty quiet all the while then suggested we go into the backyard because after all that, I couldn't get a good read on the scanner without taking off her collar (metal tags and such interfere with an accurate read for the chip detection).

Dot followed all Ian's quiet, low-key instructions to be still in order for me to do a thorough scan. There was no chip detected.

As menacing as a dewdrop!

I say, "Gee, she smells good", noticing for the first time that her coat is clean, soft, and silky.  Ian tells me he bathed her a few days earlier.  Nice, I think.  Not even a hint of a flea!

Ian begins to tell me that he "adopted" Dot from the people next door who were moving and preparing to leave her at a shelter.  Hmmmm, a guy just adopts a PIT BULL?  What the heck?  I mean, why not just let them dump the dog and go on; and why not another breed of dog? In the interim, he's petting her, cooing to her, and letting her know her WALK is in just a little while.  

I'm liking this guy.  Totally mellow, nothing over-the-top-braggadocio about him.

CLEAN AND SPARKLY

I asked Ian if he wanted her to have a chip and he said yes.  After I "chip" Dot, we walk to an area which is sheltered, carpeted, and neat as a pin.  So what's the first thing I notice: her dishes.  They looked EXACTLY like the ones pictured here.  

Now ALL I can think about is how dirty my own dog's dishes are. How I haven't bathed them in a while. How I didn't walk them once that week. What kind of horrible monster was I? The guilt was overwhelming.

I have to tell Ian that he should not let Dot engage in any strenuous activity at least overnight.  He immediately reaches down and tells her their walk will be postponed until tomorrow.  I want to crawl into my own shameful skin and die.  It gets worse.

Ian tells me, conversationally,  that he's "not a dog-person".  WHAT???!!!!!  He: rescues the dog from death, he bathes the dog, has her scanned for a microchip, he HAS her microchipped, he walks her daily, and he's NOT A DOG PERSON????!!!!  This is the Twilight Zone, my friends.  This is the man that got away.

Hold on:  Come the first of the year, he says, he has a friend who has a WHOLE RANCH up in Northern California, where Dot will go to live and have the place all to herself.  Meanwhile, she'll just hang with Ian.

Is there a moral to the story? Probably not. I could pepper you with all sorts of stuff like "Never judge a book by its cover", or, say, "We can judge the heart of a man by his treatment of animals".

Or, finally, as a reincarnated pup says: “My purpose, my whole life, had been to love him and be with him, to make him happy. I didn’t want to cause any unhappiness now—in that way, I decided it was probably better that he wasn’t here to see this, though I missed him so much at that moment the ache of it was as bad as the strange pains in my belly.”   ― W. Bruce Cameron, A Dog's Purpose.

Ode to Ian

Were it so that I could be

As kind and loving such as thee

To care and hold that darling pup...

In strong, enfolding arms.

There is no gauge by which to measure

Goodness in your heart

You asked for nothing; bringing pleasure...

To Dot, so stuffed with charm.

Just trust me now, for I can say

With absolute authori-tay - 

God will not wait nor hesitate... 

To bid you "Come On In!

"For kindness shown my creatures, 

No matter great or small

You've shown me all your mettle 

And thus, you must 

Come live with us

In what I call Animal Kettle!

Kettle's warm and lovely  - 

Mostly all year 'round

We laugh and sing and bark and mew - 

(We make other silly sounds)

We wait for long-lost owners...

Whose pets could not be found.

We'll leave the light on, just in case

You somehow get delayed

But know that we'll be waiting

Cuz for you, is what we prayed".