The Rescue

Yeah, it's been awhile. I got sick of Facebook. Then I took up Reddit and got lost lurking there. It is so addicting, uplifting and funny.  I missed writing though. I have been writing in my head and typed this out this morning. The two year anniversary of finding our dog was yesterday.

  
The Rescue

My friend Sharon got the first call.
"We've found a dog, a puppy, under a car, what should we do?"
"Call Carol", she said. She knew I had been looking.
I knelt down to meet the scared pup. He peed. An arching stream of fear.
He had been abandoned, maybe. Evil things had happened to him, positively.
No one called to inquire to my reluctant ads. I could take no chances of breaking a heart.
We named him Bob, Dill and Pickles, finally settling on Jack.
Jack my dog.

He ducked the pets of men, skittishly dance around out-reached hands.
Locked in a kennel through our absence and night, full of silent fright
Eventually, his sad gold eyes won over our hearts.
Soon he was on the furniture, laying stretched out in our bed.

Schedules became dependent on his walks, trips to the dog park, Saturday hikes to the reservoir. 

Bags of gourmet biscuits, warm baths, cross-country practice runs, wrestling matches,

gluten-free dog food, camping trips were on the agenda, but he was worth more

He came around to men, but not to brooms. 
He is still the hungriest dog I have ever met, ignores off-leash commands, fights his way in bed.

Despite his stubborn and rebellious streak, my hand will never be raised.

He's had enough violence in his life before the rescue.

Before he rescued me.

   The good news: my daughter and my friend, Joe, have agreed to be my editors.  Please follow if you like, as a few followers have disappeared in my absence.