Chapter 5. Dog Tales
I was just sittin' here looking at this ol' dog on the floor looking back up at me and I recalled the series of events that lead to him becoming a loved and valued member of the family. The best lessons in life are surely taught by humans but it's amazing how often they revolve around animals.
When Nancy and I had decided that I'd go up to Nashville for a spell to write, we had resolved most every issue, except one. Nancy was going to be all alone in this house. Cocoa Fl is, for the most part, a wonderful city and though our neighborhood was surely more lowscale than up, it was full of great people. But the bad don't necessarily confine their evil to their own neighborhoods and as the crow flies, we weren't but about a mile from potential trouble. What to do? Let's get a dog!
A perfect solution because I could easily be replaced by a dog..wait that doesn't sound right! But you know what I mean. In reality, the dog would be taking over some of my responsibilities. If there was a noise in the night, I would get up. So would the dog. If thieves stake out the house, they would see me. Now they'd see the dog. If a window breaks in the night, I'd attack. So would pooch. And there are some areas where he even excels because a dog would eat and complain a whole lot less than I do. This story is not going as planned...
I love dogs, in fact I'm an old dog guy. Heck, I had a dog even before I had a friend. Missy was her name. She was a collie/shepherd but back then we stressed the collie in her because that was the breed of Timmy's dog, Lassie! I was about Timmy's age, so there was a little rivalry going on between us. His dog was prettier than mine but I wouldn't have traded Missy for the whole Weatherwax kennel. Missy probably wasn't able to put out fires and drag grown men from burning cars but then she never had acting lessons, so who could be sure?
Plus, the rumor was, they used lots of different Lassies, so for all I knew they had 'people dragging Lassies' and 'hand shaking' and 'rolling over' Lassies and Missy had to compete with all of them. I thought she held her own pretty darn well. And every good thing she did, she did because she wanted to, not because it was in the script. She used to break up fights if someone went after me. She'd even go after 'em if they tried to tackle me when we played football. She was great for my stats.
Plus Missy, like me, loved the creek, chasing things and we shared a general disdain for baths.
Missy was a pure bred, 100% pure stray! And we were kind of proud of that because she picked us, rather than the way it's usually done. A lot of folks believe a stray makes a great pet because they'd wandered a bit, been hungry a lot and quite possibly have never been loved. She may well have had it rough out there, but now she had all that and more at the Denney's.
We never quite figured out how she got to our house because we lived at the midpoint of a big half circle, that was bound on the front by a major highway in Jacksonville. A pretty dog like Missy had to make it past about 40 houses in either direction to end up at ours. We checked with everyone on both sides to see if they had lost a dog. Nope. Wheehw! That was a relief.
But that didn't stop dad from putting an ad in the lost and found. Man I hated that. Dad was like that though, he was very fair minded and good at seeing all sides of a situation. He had had a dog when he was a kid, so I guess he knew how much Missy meant to me but he also had lost things, so I suppose he knew how much someone might be hurting that lost her.
But I was young and not expected to be so wise, so I was on record as opposing any outreach. But I had my own reasons. I figured if Missy ran away, she had her reasons and I trusted her judgement. Kids!
Well, the ad hadn't been up long when a man called. He told mom our dog sounded like his dog Harriett and he was excited and thankful that we had found her. He and his wife came by and sure enough it was his dog. I was horrified.
I had only had her for 2 weeks but already we had bonded. On my first day of school in first grade, they said she got up on the couch to look out the window, to watch me leave and never got down 'til the bus came and dropped me off. I loved that dog and she loved me.
Well, this was a different time I grew up in. The shows on tv were Andy, Lassie and Beaver. Shows that are mocked a little these days for their so called flawed representation of the world viewed through rose colored tv screens. Current critics take their shots by asserting that life back then wasn't like that at all and moreover, life at no time anywhere has ever been like that. They believe that the heartwarming and chivalrous deeds portrayed in film was all Hollywood and rarely, if ever, occurred in the real world.
In some ways they are right, maybe life wasn't always as they portrayed it but I'm here to say, that on that one day, it was!
When the man and woman arrived to pick up their dog . When they saw me and Missy together something must have happened in them. I can't say for sure what it was or what they were thinking but I was down on my knees petting Missy, for what I was sure was the last time, and the man leaned down with his hands on his knees and asked me "son you really love Harriet don't you" "Yes sir" I said, as a tear leaked out. He turned to his wife and said 'let's go." "Let's go?" did he just say let's go?! For one moment all of time stood still. As he was walking toward their car he said to my father "Mr. Denney we'd like to leave her with you." He didn't have any children at home and thought Missy would be in good and loving hands with me. We were stunned. I was overjoyed and even as I type this I'm moved by their kindness.
Sometimes I wonder who that man was? I wonder if he ever circled the neighborhood to get a look at Harriet. She was such a good dog he surely must have missed her. Who couldn't miss her? He is surely gone now but I don't care what else he did while on earth, in my opinion, he deserved to be in heaven for what he did that day.
There's just no explaining the horrible things people do to people and I suppose man will always do cruel things. But all men don't. In fact some men and women do such heroic and selfless things that it sticks with the recipients of their kindness forever. Just like it did me.
Missy and I had a bunch of wonderful years together until she caught some kind of virus and we had to put her to sleep. It was the worst day of my young life. To tell the truth, it still ranks very high.
Ok. I'm composed now. The point of all that is to say, that I had had dogs. But Nancy had not. In fact, it turns out she hadn't had all that much contact with dogs. I discovered that fact when Charles and Pam, our friends from Birmingham, came down to visit. They brought their real smart but big and sort of insistently friendly, shepherd named Buddy with them. Insistently friendly to folks that aren't so used to dogs can be interpreted as aggressive and unpredictably dangerous. Nancy really wanted to get to know the dog but on her own terms. But Buddy was determined to make friends with her right then and there!
In all honesty I was rootin' for Buddy because I really wanted Nancy to get beyond what I was sure was a small case of fear. But I figured with a little more cajoling from Buddy and she'd move into that phase of comfort we all reach, once we realize that something we think will hurt us, won't. I had experienced that with a snake once, so I knew anything!! was possible.
However, the differences in social styles was causing both the dog and Nancy to become uncomfortable. Finally, it hit me that Nancy really was not enjoying the forwardness of Buddy's affection at all and she wanted her space. How did I know? Well, if she gave you the look she gave me, even you would have known it and you don't even know her!
But alas, I had discovered it too late because now she was mad at me for being insensitive, if not also promoting the incident, a wee bit. But with lightning speed I reminded her it was Charles' dog and therefore Charles' fault, so don't blame me! Of course, I was attempting to interject some real badly needed humor by deflecting blame toward a person she actually liked. I also figured that Charles would pick up on my desperate maneuver and fall on his sword and take the blame.
But Charles was too smart to go for that. Plus, as a hungry traveler he had no intention of siding with me, if it meant putting at risk Nancy's cooking. So they all ganged up on me. Even Buddy! Needless to say, I slept in the doghouse that night.
In the cold night air, I had time to ponder things and I suppose I was being insensitive and looking back, I can see why she was afraid. But rightly or wrongly, the impression I was left with, was that Nancy wasn't a dog person. Some folks are, some aren't. But whether she was or not, to me, was no small matter because we were contemplating getting a dog. A big dog! And the dog and Nancy were going to be there alone. Eye to eye. One on one! perro y senorita! I had my concerns.
No sooner did I begin to think the dog idea had faded away and we'd just buy her an Ak47 with night vision and equip the house with a silent alarm system, heat sensitive exterior and interior flood lights, security fence and hire a firm to monitor it all..talk about a long sentence!! But I just realized how many things a dog replaces besides, me. Not to mention, always kind and sensitive and pretty much up for anything at any time! Why do I write my character into these corners? .. Let me pick that sentence back up.... No sooner had we stopped thinking about a dog, when Nancy... found a dog!!
Yep, She was walking with her sister Suzanne at a fair and some people from the SPCA were walking "Duke" around the grounds, to advertise for their organization. Nancy spent about 30 minutes petting him and fell immediately in love with Duke and the feeling was mutual. Turns out Nancy got on great with dogs. It must have been just a big misunderstanding 'tween her and Buddy and, uh, me.
When she got home and told me she wanted to get Duke, I asked her what kind of dog he was. "A Sheba Enu" she said. A sheba enu!? I asked. That's what I asked but what I thought was, this is not going to end well. A retriever of any color, a Shepherd, Collie, even a dachsund but a ' Sheba Enu'. Sounds very elegant and arctic. Probably has a deep thick coat. Well that'll come in handy down here in central Florida!! Once again I was silent and only thinking all this, for I had learned a few lessons about sensitivity in the night air a few paragraphs back. You would have been proud of me. See ladies, you can, teach old dogs new tricks but how bout Sheba Enus, can they be taught tricks? What is a Sheba Enu anyway?
So I went to the computer to look that dog up! First thing I saw confirmed my worst fears. No. It was worse than my worse fears. In bold print "Sheba Enus are unusual in that they are one, of only a few breeds, that ...Do not bark!!!" Do not bark!? The only reason we were getting a dog at all was for the bark! for security, to scare off would-be muggers and this dog don't bark! "No wonder nobody wanted him" I might have even said that....well, I see those quotes around it, so I guess I did say it. But that no barking thing floored me.
But there was hope. Nancy told me that though she had put her name on the list to get 'Duke the voiceless security dog', another person had beat her to it. We would know on Tuesday, in a week, if we were the lucky winners. Ok, I thought, chances are in a week I can talk Nancy down from this puppy love affair she was going thru and if not, maybe by the grace of the Lord that other person will get the Sheba Enu.
And how strong could her affection be for the dog, they only bonded for about 30 minutes. Besides, once we talk this no bark thing through, she'll see the logic of continuing our search for, shall we say... a normal dog.
Heck, to me even a few Chihuahua's, like everybody's grandmother has, was starting to look good. Those little dogs are scrappers and what they lack in jaw gripping power, they make up for in tenacity and nibble strength. If you get a couple of them, they could pick clean a muggers leg as quick as a school of piranha's in a Johnny Weismueller movie.
Shoot even one of those Siamese cats should not be ruled out. They are diabolical and if you have ever been unlucky enough to be the recipient of a Siamese stealth attack, then you know they are like a 2 pound leaping sandspur. And when it turns dark, when burglars are active, they squeal like a banshee when alarmed. Only problem with them is they generally make no distinction between the good guys and the bad ones. Yes, that is a problem.
But what about one of those green talking parrots. They take barking to a whole new level. With just a little effort you could teach one to say "Give up punk, the place is surrounded" or "go ahead, make my day". Or the old world standby "release the hounds!" There are endless possibilities. But the point is, I was open to 'bout anything but a Enu!
I mean really, it sounded more like a small economy car than a dog. A Chevy Enu. I'd buy that! But not if it didn't have a horn!!
The week went by and she didn't bring it up, so I sure as heck didn't! So I assumed she had decided to let me, you know, the dog expert, pick a dog. Tuesday morning, first thing she said was,"well today's the day". That is one determined woman! She really is, and without a doubt it's one of the many things I love about her. Most people would have deferred to the dog expert in this matter but when she felt something is right she is very hard to discourage. Well, it's still possible the dog was taken, I thought. So from a distance, I anxiously listened in on her phone conversation with the SPCA, til I heard her say something joyful that sounded like, " he is?!" I went out and warmed up the car.
When we got there, I immediately saw what I thought was an animal scurry frightened behind the counter. I thought to myself, and maybe even said, and Nancy swears I did " what was that, was that the dog?" Proudly, the attendant said "yes that was Duke and we're sure going to miss him." 'I'll bet you are' I thought. 'In fact I bet you wish all your dogs couldn't bark'. That's got to be the worst thing about a kennel, all the cacophonous barking. 50 cages of Sheba Enus would be a kennel guys dream come true. Not to mention how much burglars must favor the breed. Heck, they probably deliberately target Sheba enu guarded homes!
Anyway what happened next was a little, well, insulting. While I was there to see if I approved of their dog, turns out the SPCA and the dog, first had to approve of ME!. Yeah, these people interview the 'adoptive parents' to see if they are worthy of their strays! If they were having doubts about me, and given my not so peppy demeanor, that was quite possible, they had to be pleased when they saw the Enu immediately scurry to find safety at my side. Truthfully, it did please me a bit too. It was a big room and there were a lot of options for legs to scurry under. But after the initial surprise that he had sought me out, it hit me what had just happened. That was one crafty dog! He got me and him approved, with one affectionate maneuver!
Sitting there I couldn't help but think of how the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh and though he took that dogs voice box, he gave him social, if not downright sneaky social smarts. Perhaps that could be a trade off I could live with.
But really at this point it made no difference what I thought. We owned him. Nancy walked him to the car and he bounded into the back seat as if he knew the routine. He also sat quietly the entire trip home. Hmm, socially sneaky smart, well- mannered and! car broke.
We arrived at the house and we showed him around the joint. He seemed to approve, so Nancy left me alone with him 'cause she was going to go buy her new dog, a new collar. As he and I sat in the livingroom. I couldn't help but think how, almost impressed I was with him. In addition to his many gifts, he was also quite handsome with a blondish reddish brown coat and alert ears. And he was a perfect size at about 40 lbs. Big enough to be a visual threat, which was good because he surely wasn't going serve as an alarm! This might all work out Duke ol boy, I thought.
'Bout that time I heard Nancy pull up in the driveway and Duke did too, because his ears perked up. "That's good, he can hear" I thought. Then he stood with his hair a little frazzled up like he was a little mad at whoever was out there. Oh, that's good, Duke's tough but I thought 'Duke you really are 'bout a perfect dog.. if only you could'...... when that dog literally took that word right out of my mouth and.. BARKED!! ..Well I looked at him like a miracle had just happened and he looked at me like, what's the big deal? I do it all the time. In fact before Nancy had made it into the house, ol 'Duke the mute', had barked up a storm to warn me that someone was coming up the yard!! Nancy opened the door and we looked at each other like proud parents that had just learned their child had been accepted to med school!
As it turns out, ol Duke had been mislabeled. And surely to our benefit because he wasn't no Sheba Enu, he was a full blown Australian Cattle Dog of the Red Heeler variety. If he'd have been advertised properly, he wouldn't have lasted a day on the market.
The book says those Dukes are known to be great dogs, which Nancy knew without reading it. And big barkers!! which in all honesty, Nancy didn't care about either. What I'm reluctantly getting at is, something I didn't get from the beginning... that this was her dog, and she loved him from the moment she saw him and petted him in that field. Whether 30 minutes or 2 weeks, who should have known better than me about the bond that can form between a dog and a person. Male or female. 6 or 40.
This was just one example of many, of how Nancy's good heart and instincts, aligned with her persistence, would win the day.. and just dazzle me in the end. I love you Nancy!! I got to take a break right here, ol' Duke's just took off barkin at somethin' out back...