Orison



Orison

About twenty years ago a construction worker moved into an apartment.  He brought a small dog with him, which he kept in a cage.  Shortly after moving in, he brought his girlfriend.  It was a happy family.  A couple years later they had a squabble and split up.  They left the building overnight, leaving trash and rubbish behind.  Along with the trash was a caged animal, emaciated and extremely distrustful.

I met, Midnight as a rescue.  She was in the cage, next to the trash.  I was not looking for a dog that day.  She looked sad.  I knew she needed a kind heart.  So she stayed with me on the farm where she could roam and help along with the chores.  She was a great watchdog –an all weather dog with thick winter coat that shed out in summer.  Midnight never left home.

It takes a great effort to work with anything abused.  They need time and compassion.  They say that time heals wounds, but the memory sometimes cannot forget.  Midnight was never very affectionate.  She would tolerate.  Nevertheless, she earned her keep as a watchdog. 

After several years, I acquired another pet.  Sweety, was just as her name.  Sweety jumped in front of a bus that barely stopped.  She would not move from in front of his wheel, as if she’d frozen.  I stopped from the opposite direction and grabbed the dog.   There was no place to deposit her as it was an abandoned road.  She crept up beside me and promptly fell asleep, between Trixie and me.  We were friends for life.  There was no day when she was not by my side. 

Sweety was intelligent.  I would talk to her and she would listen to me – my wife would not do that (sometimes she does – when I make sense).  Maybe it was a good thing Sweety did not understand everything I said.   We both learned new words sometimes while I worked on farm equipment.  However, Sweety was more than a farm dog.  I took her with me on errands.  She was a herding dog that preferred luxury, seldom lying on the floor, preferring chairs and sofas.

Sweety had one problem, which was Midnight.  Neither could have tolerance for each other.  Midnight, was probably jealous that I worked more with Sweety.  I had to keep both dogs separated.  My wife sometimes commented that I spent more time with the dog.  I reminded her that she was the reason we had Sweety.  I might have kept driving, had my wife not begged me to rescue the poor thing.  She enjoyed Sweety as much as I did.

Sweety had a great life, as my favorite companion.  She was with us for about ten years.  However, Midnight was like the Ever Ready Bunny.  She was healthy and vibrant most of her life.  Over the years, she mellowed a bit and even enjoyed petting, sometimes.  I liked Midnight.  We were tolerated each other.  

On the day, Sweaty died, I was very sad.  It is hard to lose a close companion, even your favorite dog.  I had some errands to run and it took several hours.  When I returned home, my wife was holding, Sam, my new companion, on a leash.  Somehow, he’d wandered through the field; perhaps, he had lost his way.  He acted disoriented, and he was emaciated.  I had no time to grieve.  The dog needed surgery. 

I never really liked hunting dogs.  They can be loud and obnoxious.  Sam fit that description.  He required a special diet and divided meals in a day.  He needed vitamins and medicine, but he was always active.  He made me laugh with his demanding ways.  Men must have abused him, prior to our meeting.  He would hide whenever they would come around.  Sam was a good family dog and liked living on the farm.  I cared for him out of pity, which made him affectionate.  He would often place his head in my lap when I sat on the couch.  I spent lots of time petting him and giving reassurance.  If you pet a dog enough over the years, you develop a bond. 

Some years went by.  It was a cold winter day and I was running errands.  As I walked down the sidewalk, there was a small dog tied to a shovel, in an empty parking lot.  I called my wife and told her about it.  She encouraged me to take the little dog.

One never knows what they really like until it happens upon them.  We envision.  We assume.  I would never think to be bonding with a tiny guy that was six pounds, when fully grown.  My wife could bond with him.  I had Sam.

Nothing ever works as you plan.  It was, Trixie’s idea that I should take, Scamp for lessons in etiquette; that being something I never mastered either.  She was busy with other things.  I would spend the time training, Scamp for her.  She would have the perfect dog, which I trained for her.

Scamp and I spent lots of time together.  One of the things we learned in school was, Tolerance.  We learned how be more proper in our mannerisms.   Both of us had arrived at the training center, apprehensive about the program.  Neither of us wanted to be there.  Scamp wanted to drive on the way over -- he was too small for a seat belt, and would not use a cage.  Truly, he fit his master’s profile as diminutive in size, with a lion’s temper.  Part of our course encouraged us to practice meditation.

As an added bonus, Scamp and I learned to play Frisbee.  I’d never had a retrieving dog.  It was fun to see the small dog running across the field with a Frisbee bigger than it, in its mouth.  Scamp learned to fetch my shoes and slippers, to my delight.  We both learned to have a little more patience.  He quit growling at other dogs, and I quit growling at my wife for sending me to school.

One day, Trixie observed that Spot was always at my side.  He had bonded to me.  I tried to avoid her comment, and  pointed out that he is quiet and poised, and he is a good watchdog.  We both learned allot in school.  Trixie, learned that if you want a dog, you have to train it for yourself.  I got stuck with a tiny dog that would not fit my profile had I been looking.  We never planned for what would happen.

Sam had been acting strange.  He was ill and needed attention.  Trixie suggested that I might take, Midnight along for an exam, as she has been frail.   I set up a routine appointment for both dogs.  That was when I learned their fates.  Sam had advanced cancer.  It did not seem right to keep him around to suffer.  It was a sad moment for me.  We had been farm buddies for a long time.   

Midnight’s fate was sealed.  She was not eating regular meals and had advanced kidney disease.  It was not what I planned.  Both dogs were together.

We are never prepared for what will happen.  Life is full of twist  and turns.  It was the anniversary date for Sweety’s death, the day I met Sam.  It was the anniversary day of Sweety’s death,  the day Sam died. It is strange how things happen sometimes.     It was as if Sweaty, was telling me that, Sam would be keeping me company until she could return to me.  She came back in the form of, Scamp.  In a way, we have to believe that.  Life is always changing.  We have to look forward.