Welcome
Back Neighbor
For several months there
was a big, friendly black lab/pit bull "puppy" who
lived in our rural community outside of Westport.
The "puppy" would always come bounding over to the
fence to visit when we were out mowing the "back
40". He'd
wiggling everything from his big nose to his
large tail. We asked around to see who owned him,
and a neighbor told us that he was just a "neighborhood
dog". (We
suspected, however, that the neighbor was the real
owner, even if he was reluctant to admit it.) The
dog was allowed to run loose and was not neutered.
Then last spring
or early summer we notice the dog wasn't around anymore.
We didn't think much of it, but missed seeing him.
In the meantime, our beloved
11-year-old Sheltie passed away from renal failure.
We were devastated, and my husband said he would
never, ever, be able to give his heart to another
dog. The grief was almost unbearable and so we decided
not to ever get another dog.
We decided to drive
over to the Westport docks, 5 miles away, to take
pictures of the Tall Ships that were docked that
weekend. While we were strolling down Dock Street
taking pictures, my husband pointed across the street
to a dog, running frantically up and down the street
like he was looking for something. He said, "Isn't
that the dog that used to live in our neighborhood?" I
said, I couldn't tell because he was so thin.
A minute
later I ran into one of my friends who was setting
up her booth and she told me that the dog had been
in town the day before too, running frantically up
and down the street, asking people for food and,
at one point, drinking water from the ocean! He was
being shooed away by everyone, probably because he
was wearing a collar, and was so big. Well, I immediately
went after the dog, moving incredibly fast for an
over-60 woman. When I caught up with him he was so
happy to see me and readily jumped into the back
seat of our car. He was, indeed, our old "neighborhood
dog". I immediately fed him some dog food and water,
which I always carry with me in my car for just such
occasions, and took him home. He was nothing but
ribs and backbone, but still had his friendly, puppy-like
disposition.
My husband said that
this dog would have to be "my" dog. The neighbors
recognized my 'new' dog and said the man who owned
him had given him away to a little girl who lived
near the docks in Westport a month or two before.
Her family already had a puppy and so kicked this
one out to fend for himself. He apparently was able
to scrounge enough food and water to stay alive during
that time, partly from digging in the earth and eating
grubs.
He was totally exhausted
and slept on the living room rug for about 10 hours,
after which he ate and drank ravenously. When I let
him outside he sounded like a horse galloping around
the house. I looked out and watched as my very happy
dog was doing something I had never seen a dog do
before. He was running around the exterior perimeter
of the house as fast as he could, ears flying in
the wind, kicking up lawn divots as he went. He went
around 4 times, finally stopping in the backyard
where he tossed his new chew toy into the air playfully
several times before settling down to gnaw away at
it. (My husband now refers to him as "the horse")
He has
since filled out nicely, weighing in at about 85
pounds. I got him neutered and vaccinated and
he is really a happy (and spoiled) fellow. Our friends
and family adore him and he is very content. There
is a lot more to the story, but suffice to say, my
husband and I have both given our hearts to him,
and vice versa.
Ironically, a black
cat that had apparently also been "owned" by this
neighbor, moved into our closed-in porch,
(as many other strays have done over the years) and
never left. He and the dog, having been old friends
and it was a fine reunion with the dog licking the
cat and the cat rubbing up against the dog. "Blackie" as
I not-so-imaginatively called the kitty, is now one
of the family as well, and has a place to sleep indoors
or out, as he wishes, right along with his old buddy.
Sandi Clark
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