In October our Golden Retriever, Shiloh, died. I don't know if I ever wrote about it but will need to because his burial was quite memorable.
He was a big, old goofy dog who dearly loved children. We rescued him from a family who could no longer take care of him and we gave him a good home. . . . but in his heart of hearts he was a family dog who needed a bigger family, one with kids!
He was so very, very good-natured and would let toddlers and children pull on him and fall on him and he loved every minute of it. I NEVER saw him bare his teeth or heard him growl. Because he was so good-natured, he made a lousy watchdog. One time the FedEx man opened the screen-door, came inside and set the heavy packages in the living room and Shiloh didn't even lift his head! A LOUSY watchdog indeed!
In the last 7 months we've never discussed getting another dog. No, not even one time.
Then this happened!
This morning this face was waiting for me on the porch.
A stray. Right here. On my porch. We've had lots of strays show up at this place since we moved here almost 2 1/2 years ago. We live in an isolated rural area, and it's a regular thing for people (bad people) to dump dogs near us.
And as I've written before, I sure do wish there was at least one day a year where the
DOGS drove the trucks and they got to dump people out in the road. No explanation. No food. No nothing . . . . just dump the people in the middle of nowhere!
Anyway - please don't get mad at me - but since we are regular victims of other folks' bad behavior - we chase away strays dogs as we CANNOT keep all that show up. So we throw firecrackers toward them (not on them) to chase them away. We don't shoot them with BB guns. . . .
we just set off some firecrackers.
And they run away. Every time.
But not this time. . . . he's still here. He wags his tail when he sees me. He made himself comfortable at the work site in the yard and he hasn't done any digging. He does, however, jump on me when I go out. I guess it would too much to expect a stray to show up with good manners!
However, he did run off with one of my Sloggers, but when I yelled at him he dropped it. That's good, right?
And get this - he even made it up the STEEP backdoor steps when he heard me in the kitchen. And brought an old yellow and green dog toy with him! Doesn't it sound like something from a movie?
Best of all, he BARKED at my husband when he came home for lunch! Yay! He wasn't at all aggressive - just loud. Just the way I like it! I don't want an attack dog - just one that will let me know when there's someone here.
So, I've taken photos of him.
I've now blogged about him.
And hubby and I call him Buster.
What are the odds we've got ourselves another dog?????
I'll keep you updated,
Vera
