You’ve met my wicked cat, now meet the canines of my household.                       

Disney, senior dog.  A tiny chihuahua.  Now deaf and partially blind.  A puppy mill rescue dog, which I took in over fifteen years ago.                                                                                                                                    

img_10261best-pix1

Lady and Georgia, our rescue pound puppies.

p.s. don’t ever go to the local pound to look at just one dog. Ever. Especially, do not venture toward the back row, unless you’re prepared to expand your family.  I found out that at my pound, the back row is death row, thus the ‘blondie’ on the right.  Puppies get front and center.

My luv picked out, Lady, the one on the left: a plump soft fur ball (pageant pup, I call her) she was about eight weeks old. And while he ohh’d and aww’d over pageant pup, I made my way quietly toward the back of the pound and came across the one on the right, Georgia.  Georgia crawled over to the kennel fence, managed to thump her tail twice and gave me her best woeful look. On my third trip down the back row, I asked the worker to bring her out so I could pet her. 

Silly me, once you touch, they own you, … I now know. 

Of course I had to take her and especially after the worker said, “she’s scheduled to be put down in the next two hours.”  And I was still grieving the recent loss of my beloved shepherd, Lucy… 

We signed adoption papers for both dogs, but only walked out with pageant pup.  Because of Georgia’s age (guesstimated to be about age two) and the abuses she’d suffered, the pound didn’t think she’d be a good family placement candidate, so they hadn’t spayed her when she was brought in. However, we would be allowed to have her once the vet could come in and spay her.  But I knew she would never survive the surgery or the wait.  She was too ill.  

I fretted about her all night, then decided to go back to the pound the next morning.  At first they couldn’t find her.  They hadn’t tagged her as adopted and she was still on death row!  I pleaded with the director to let me take her home.  He finally consented as long as I would send in her spay papers from my vet.  Georgia was too weak to walk.  I carried her to my car and drove her directly to my vet. ”…extremely malnourished and double pneumonia,” he said.

The third day after I brought her home, Georgia walked to the end of the driveway with me.  Although she was still very weak, she managed to pick up my newspaper and carry it in. 

And because of her previous abuses, it would take nearly three months for her tail to stay in a flag salute.  Another two months to keep her from eating and hoarding rocks, yes rocks, and another six months to keep her from stealing her sister, Lady’s, food.

Take a close look again at Lady and Georgia.  Notice how perfect Lady holds her legs—her pose?  Lady is and has turned into the perfect dog, and so my family tells me every day.  Now look at Georgia, her pose.  A bar fly pose for sure.  Georgia is indeed reliving lost puppy youth and has earned the double z in spazztic.  My family even tried to get me to name her Tramp.  Calls her Tramp.  Pfft.  I love them both, but Georgia has this sweet old soul that radiates love.  She loves to please, can not give enough please and shows gratitude every single day with a paws-on attitude and sloppy wet kisses .

Lady?  Yup, a lady. Put’s the saWheet in sweet, reserved, very calm and very sneaky.  She’s cost me over $2,000.00 in repairs to the wood moldings and floor in the mud room, amongst but just a few of her destructions.

“What’s that you ask, my luv?  Your favorite blue shirt?  It’s missing too?”

I look over at the pageant pup, Lady, snatch the shredded remnants of a blue silk shirt hanging out of her mouth and quickly stuff it into the back of the mud room closet, along side the others—his others: three favorite, but now shredded shirts, one hole-filled running shoe and a ruined pair of gooey–chewy leather shoes… I pat her head and smile.

…and you call my bay-bee, Tramp?  

 

disney-21

Disney’s thoughts

What’s playn’ on my CD: The Hollies, Long Cool Woman In Black Dress 

Read: Kathleen Kent, The HERetic’s Daughter