I've had three dogs in my life. The first, just after I turned nine was when I lived in Gainesville, Florida. A neighbor had a chihuahua and bred her. We ended up with one of the puppies, Sandy, and never renamed her ourselves. My mother had been terrified of dogs and always resisted my brother and my own pleas for a pet. The day I was offered the puppy, the mother dog, ChiChi followed me home. Sandy fit into the palm of my nine year old hands, and somehow my mother said we could keep her. I was elated.
-----------------------
When I got out of college I moved to Evansville, Indiana for my first "real" job. The three month old Beagle-Spitz mix I named J.D. (Janet's Dog) was adopted from the humane society. I had a smart, loving, loyal, well behaved friend. She loved people and expected everyone to love her the way I did. I was 23 when I got her, and better able to take action on the dog book advice, and also took her to obedience school. My mother told me if I ever found a man as devoted to me as J.D. was, I should marry him. I'm still single, so maybe that was way too high a bar...
J.D. moved with me to Ann Arbor, Michigan and had an admiration/toleration relationship with Sandy when they were around each other. J.D. did the admiring and Sandy reluctantly tolerated. You know those young upstarts! By that time Sandy was at least 15 and J.D. was one year old. J.D. would not bother me as I slept, but the moment I woke, she'd be on my chest, licking me reluctantly fully awake.
I lived in an apartment when I got J.D., and also when I moved back to Michigan in 1984. Once she "escaped" out the sliding glass door in my Ypsilanti apartment, where there was a parking lot and careless drivers. It had happened before in Evansville, but there it was not as risky. I called her, but she was having too much fun running around the man made lake, and didn't want to come back.
I learned to use the "Death Voice" -- actually, I learned I had one -- and she came right away. I punished her by putting her bed by the front door, which was hidden from the kitchen. I washed dishes or something without letting her join me for maybe five or ten minutes. To J.D. this was a tragedy for me to be mad at her for so long and not let her apologize. The lesson was enough for the rest of her life. Any vocal tone from me anywhere near the "Death Voice" brought her instantly in line.
She moved with me into my first house, which had a big fenced yard perfect for her. I was home sick from work one day and I heard her barking like mad in the yard. I walked outside, a little bleary, and wondering if a school kid from the adjoining elementary school was harassing my sweet, gentle, friendly dog. I couldn't imagine what would make her bark so frantically.
There she was, on top of the picnic table, jumping up and down on her hind legs (she balanced really well, doing her grizzly bear imitation), barking at a squirrel she had trapped in the tree as it chattered loudly at her. This same squirrel taunted her all of the time, but this time, it had no place to go.
I saw her and had two fears: that she would fall off the picnic table as she jumped up and down, or that she would catch the squirrel. I took care of both by grabbing her and putting her on the ground. This gave the squirrel a chance to run down the tree and to the power lines and safety. J.D.'s fun was over though, and she was disappointed. Later I saw the squirrel chattering at her often. Leave it to J.D. to make "friends" with a squirrel.
In 1992 J.D. was diagnosed with lymph cancer. She was being treated by a fine local vet, and a vet at one of the finest vet schools in the US at Michigan State University in East Lansing, Michigan. We did doggie chemo-therapy which is much less aggressive than with people, and has as a goal to preserve quality of life. She lived another year. I had to put her to sleep in April 1993, just shy of being 10 years old. It was a very sad day. There would never be another dog like J.D.
Much as I love dogs, I didn't have another one myself until two years ago.
-----------------------
I had started thinking about getting another dog, especially when my friends Matt and Andrea started fostering dogs from the Humane Society. I came really close to adopting their first foster puppy, a Jack Russell Terrier mix named Blondie. Blondie was too stubborn though, and I wanted a trainable dog. Filomena was a wonderful sweet, well behaved foster dog, but she was huge - similar to the breed of Marmaduke of cartoon fame - is that Great Dane? I took Filomena on a walk once and when she wanted to play with me, I realized she was too much dog for me.
Fate stepped in on January 26, 2007. I was procrastinating during my morning pre-work routine and was a little on the late side leaving the house, but would still be on time. Then I was behind slow traffic: a driver who decided the school zone went for a mile or so longer than it did, a gardening truck with a trailer of tools being pulled, both when I could not pass, and then I was blocked by two semi-trucks who decided to chat in the middle of the two-lane road, cab-to-cab, not expecting traffic in the empty office park. Everything delayed me.
Then, 2-3 miles from the closest home, a 1/4 mile from a construction site that had no activity for some time, in an almost empty office park, 1/2 mile from my office, a little yellow dog came out of the bushes on my way to work. I stopped my car, not sure what to do, thinking I could not leave the dog where it was, because a car might hit it. There was no one around, and with the location, someone had dumped the dog. There was no collar. It was a little scared, but seemed like a nice dog. I thought it was old because of the white muzzle and wide backside. I put it in my car and thought about what else to do.
It was too late to turn around and leave it at my house, and the place was not puppy-proof, especially if I was going to leave it alone. Thankfully, it was a cool day for South Florida, I could take the dog with me to work and leave it in my car while I went inside and called the Humane Society, thinking I could get the dog fostered. I was job hunting and heavily considering consulting jobs, with lots of travel. Not the best situation for owning a dog. The Humane Society recording said to call Miami-Dade Animal Services for a stray. I did and ended up taking the dog there, putting my name on the list to adopt if the owners were not found. (Note: never again! Taking her to Animal Services was a big mistake.)
Before I drove her there I decided I should see if the dog was male or female -- the answer was "Pregnant". Making an even longer story a little shorter, she got kennel cough immediately, no one claimed her within the 5 day window, they wouldn't let me adopt her because she was pregnant, then they aborted her puppies, almost euthanized her (remember I was on the adoption list), and a rescue organization that tagged her and saved her life helped me get her out of doggie jail. The day I found her, everything put me in her path. I named the corgi-mix Destine (des-teen), making her name a modified version of the French for fate and destiny, and making it feminine. I never realized how difficult a name that is for most people. She and I like it just fine.
Destine, the day I brought her home, February 4, 2007 - Doral, Florida
I was trying not to become too attached to her, since I knew I probably could not keep her, but when I brought the groggy, hacking, belly shaven, stitched up little girl home, how could I not become attached? She needed gentle care.
I accepted a job offer, for one of the consulting roles I was considering, and really needed to find her a home. We both got lucky when friends from my synagogue let me know they were considering getting a companion for their Shiba Inu mix, Dora. Both dogs were about the same age, with Dora being 2 and Destine's age estimated at between 1 and 2. We ended up with a co-ownership arrangement, where I am primary owner, paying the bills and getting dibs on her when I'm home, but she is part of their family when I travel. When I am home longer, we arrange play dates for the dogs, and I sometimes let her stay there overnight so they can enjoy her.
Destine is not like the other dogs I've had or known. She is sweet, loving, faithful, affectionate, and smart, but she also worries. She has a sadness in her eyes. She is a little afraid of new people, especially men. She follows me from room to room and is seldom not in the same room as me when I'm home. She loves to be in the yard, but only with me. I bought a doggie door and she learned to use it, but until recently, she would not use it unless I went outside too.
At Dora's house they were painting and sanding. Dora is very sensitive to dust and has allergies and skin conditions. To keep the dogs out of trouble, and healthy, they stayed at my place by themselves during the day for about a week or so. I was traveling. Matthew (Dora's owner) would come by and check on them, feed them, and sometimes work from my house instead of his so that they were not alone too much. Being alone together is always better for the two dogs than just being alone. Dora did not need a person around to enjoy being in the yard. After she learned to use the doggie door, Destine didn't mind using it even when I'm not going out with her. She loves going out in the yard and lying in the sun.
Destine is playful, smart, loyal, and listens to me. I can walk her without a leash in my gated community if not too many people or dogs are around. Other dogs distract her; she wants to greet every one. She is less trusting with people and is imperfectly obeying me and not chasing kids on skateboards, ripsticks, bikes, skates, etc., or the joggers and others that move quickly through the community. When I take her places, she enjoys the car ride, is thrilled to be there, but within a short time, she wants to leave. She is worried about being left behind. She gets a little scared and overwhelmed when I have a lot of people over, and will sit close to me for protection. She'll lay quietly at my feet under the table as we eat.
With those she loves and trusts, she is a sweet, gentle companion. She loves interacting with people. In contrast, her "sister" Dora is not as personable. In Destine's other family she lays by Matthew's feet when he works in his upstairs office, and by his mother-in-law's when she watches TV down stairs. She goes to Janet (her other dog-mommy is also named Janet) for love and petting, and oh yes, she plays with Dora.
Dora and Destine, December 31, 2008 - Doral, Florida
There is nothing like watching them play, and watching Destine run, pure joy on her face. When I walk her in the morning she prances around, running here, running there, checking on me. When she is on leash she has learned not to pull, to sit when I stop, and to wait for me to release her verbally if I remove the leash, but she'll never walk like an obedient dog right next to me unless forced. I've had her almost two years now. I hope she'll learn to be more trusting and relaxed. If she didn't occasionally lunge at people when I walk her and if I could get the sad look out of her eyes 100% of the time, she'd be a perfect dog, sweet, smart, well behaved, not to mention as cute as can be.
No comments:
Post a Comment