Two Halloweens ago my wife and I were sitting at a local diner talking about what to do about the dog next door. The neighbor had brought him home and didn't really want him. He was being fed whatever scraps were left in the TV dinners got tossed out the door. That morning I had wandered over to check on this dog, and found him with a tie wrap around his neck for a collar, and tied to an old bicycle by a seven-foot length of cable.
Clearly this could not go on, but we had a dog (a dachshund mix), three cats, and two teenagers, all crammed in a house way too small for the crowd we already had. Also this dog was a puppy, half Lab, half Dalmation, and if he actually grew into those feet....
The neighbor had already offered him to me, and I had turned him down. But the beast kept coming over to our house (when he could get loose, which seemed to be pretty much anytime he wanted) and calling me Poppa.
So after lunch I went over and asked if I could have the dog. The man didn't even blink.
Now Bo is a 96-pound behemoth, consisting of feet, a mouth, and an enormous heart. As I write this he's napping on his love seat, because he had two walks today, and it was raining, and Mom dried his face for him (he dearly loves getting his face dried).
Just a big old black dawg.
One stranger we met on a walk pointed out that because of his Lab heritage, he'll be a puppy for three or four years; and the Dalmation part means he'll be a puppy for about fifteen.
And that works for me.
1 comment:
My late Bub was a Dalmador Lab/Dal. I had him for 14 years. He was the sweetest dog who ever lived, I think the Dalmador is a wonderful bread. My Bub adored children food and "His" chair in that order. Al tho he is gone he will never be forgotten.. Long live the Dalmador.
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