Two weeks ago, Logan told you his story of how he came to be here with T and Nollind so I thought I’d tell mine. It’s not quite the little orphan story that Logan tells, poor guy. I was never a stray. I never had to live out on my own or scavenge for my meals, although I think I would have made a great scavenger. No, I was left behind when I became an inconvenience, an expense. I was forgotten.
How could anyone forget this face?
I spent my first couple of years as part of a pack of three out west of Calgary. Our guy, let’s just call him Dick, used to ride his horse into the little community near our home, tie the horse outside, and go in for a drink, or two, or three. Well, we dogs always got to tag along and spent our time in town sniffing about, visiting people, getting into what we could. It was a great time … until we discovered we were breaking the law, or Dick was, and we got arrested. Still haven’t sorted out just why we got arrested and he didn’t but, anyway …
So there we were, the three of us dogs, in the pound. No worries, we thought, Dick will come for us. Everybody knows who we belong to. But he didn’t come. Rumour was he didn’t want to pay the fines. I guess we weren’t worth it.Unclaimed by our owner, our fate was uncertain, until Misty Creek Dog Rescue stepped in. Apparently, the bylaw officer in the community had a connection to Misty Creek and, hallelujah, we were sprung from jail. After a short stay at the Misty Creek facility, we were each fostered out to kind volunteers. I missed my brothers, but the people were nice and there were a bunch of other dogs where I ended up so I was content … until the nice people realized they had too many dogs and I needed a new foster home. One day the doorbell rang and when my foster mom opened the door I saw them for the first time, the people who would become my new family, T and Nollind.
They clipped a leash to my collar, made a quick stop at the truck to pick up Logan, and we were off around the block. I do love a walk, and, in my enthusiasm, can forget there’s a human holding the other end of the leash. By the time we were back at the truck, I knew I’d not made the best first impression, dragging T down the street. Since they were initially just foster parents, I had some ground to make up if I wanted to convince them that I should be a permanent member of the family, and I soon had my opportunity.
Before we’d gone a mile down the road, my back seat partner started panting and shaking. I was worried so I placed my paw on his head, to comfort him. Not sure it helped him but it certainly worked well for me. My action was met with an, “Aaawww … look what he’s doing” from the front seat. Plan A, or Plan Adorable, was afoot.
Fast friends … outdoors.
By day two, things between Logan and me were fine outdoors but, in the house, there was some alpha dog posturing stuff going on. I decided I’d better mark off some territory and peed on the wall in the hallway. Logan immediately covered. T caught him, knew immediately what had happened, and we were both in trouble. Oh oh. Although I’d been showing off my superior kenneling skills at night, I knew I had more ground to make up.
Building up good-boy points.
It was time to hatch the next phase of Plan A. I’d noticed that, although Logan is a friendly sort, he’s not what you’d call cuddly. I’d found my way in. That evening, T and Nollind were sitting on the couch watching a movie and I hopped up beside T and cuddled in. It was met with another “Aaawww” and “he’s so sweet”. You betcha.
On day three Misty Creek called saying that someone was interested in adopting me. T was in tears. I didn’t like to see her upset but I knew then that, despite my missteps, Plan A had been a success. We went to Calgary the next day, the paperwork was signed and the adoption fee paid. I was home … for good.