Sunday, May 14
Readers are impatient to know what happens to Homeless Dog. In order not to draw out the suspense, this post is very long. It really is two posts in one. — Sue
~ ~ ~
Again this morning, Homeless Dog is waiting for his friend, Reggie, to appear.
The air is chilly, but the little, white dog doesn’t seem bothered by it.
He and Reggie greet each other. Homeless Dog comes up to me for a hello before returning to his pal.
After a while, I call Reggie from play time. I have blogging to do!
By the time I finish blogging, Reggie is pestering to go outside again.
I can’t blame him for that. He always has a great time with Homeless Dog!
~ ~ ~
Another one of our neighbors at the RV park stops his puttering by his home and walks over to me.
“I’ve been watching you and the dogs. My chair is by that window.”
He points to a picture window at the end of his park model.
“I can’t believe what you’ve done with that dog. None of us has been able to get close to him. We tried and tried. For a couple weeks now.”
“It’s not me. It’s Reggie. He can make a friend out of anyone.”
Later Anita joins Reggie, Homeless Dog, and me on the lawn.
Reggie and the dog pause their play and trot up to Anita. Reggie scampers around her legs in happy greeting.
“Well, hello, Reggie!” She scratches him behind the ear.
The other dog sees this and moves in.
He jumps up, putting his front paws on her legs.
“Oh! You want some loving, too! Aren’t you a doll!” Anita strokes his back. His tail wags and his body wiggles as he soaks up the attention.
“I can’t believe he’s letting me do this!” she exclaims. “It’s like he’s a different dog!”
The dogs run off to resume their play. Anita credits me with the dog’s transformation.
“It wasn’t me, Anita. It was Reggie. He’s a love ambassador.”
That evening, after another play session, I call Reggie.
It’s time to go in for the night. I open the door and step inside. To my surprise, it isn’t Reggie who follows me in.
It’s Homeless Dog!
At that moment, I know what I have to do.
As clearly as though someone spoke the words in my ear, I know this is wrong, wrong, wrong.
Without hesitation I pick up the little, white dog and carry him outside. Quickly, Reggie jumps inside with me and I close the door.
One more night, little guy. One last night sleeping outside . . . .
Monday, May 15
Rogerson Service Center, Rogerson, Idaho (RV Park in rear)
Another day, another encounter . . .
Reggie is in front of me on his tether as we walk around the park. The little, white dog trots alongside Reggie. A voice calls out.
“Looks like he’s your dog!”
It’s Anita in her car.
“No, looks like he’s YOUR dog!” I call back.
She gets out of her car, hurries over, and repeats, “Yep, he’s your dog.”
Just then Homeless Dog sees her and runs to her!
Automatically Anita kneels and clutches his face in her hands. Holding him tenderly and firmly, their eyes lock together. Anita strokes his cheeks with her thumbs. The little, white dog is transfixed. All the while, Anita talks softly to him.
“Anita. He loves you. He belongs with you.”
“You think so?” She continues stroking. “You really think so? What about you? Don’t you want him?”
“I want him to be where he’s meant to be. You two belong together. You have a fenced yard. You work within walking distance of your house. You can visit him throughout the day.”
“But he loves Reggie,” she counters weakly.
“True, but he would have to share me with Reggie. That dog deserves to be an only dog. At least for a while. He would love having that with you.”
Anita releases Homeless Dog.
We watch as he happily runs off to play with Reggie.
“It’s amazing how much he’s changed,” she says, astonished. “I can’t believe how he ran right up to me and let me love him like that.”
“Well, first Reggie got him to trust him. Then he saw Reggie trusting me, so he began to trust me. Reggie and I trust you, so now the dog trusts you, too. We’re a pack!”
Anita laughs with delight.
“And you’re the alpha,” she adds.
Tuesday, May 16
I drop in at the store. Anita is behind the counter. As she has done several times since Reg and I came to Rogerson, she takes the first opportunity to come outside so we can talk. It’s also obvious she wants to see the little, white dog.
This day there is a breakthrough.
“If I keep him,” she begins wistfully. “I’ll call him Rocky.”
Ah, there it is. There it is. Homeless Dog is homeless no more . . . .
“Rocky is good. That’s similar to what I’ve been calling him in my mind — Roger.”
Later, decision time arrives.
“Anita, it’s going to be very cold tonight. They’re saying snow. We can’t leave him outside.”
Anita proposes that we let Rocky/Roger choose his new home.
“You and Reggie go home and I’ll walk toward my house. If he follows me, I’ll keep him.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
We walk apart and Rocky/Roger follows Anita!
But then he stops, looks back at Reggie and me, and runs toward us!
“Shoo! Shoo! Go on!”
Rocky/Roger turns and sprints to Anita. They walk further, together now. Rocky/Roger looks back, hesitates, and runs to catch up with Reggie and me.
Again I shoo him away.
As he races to Anita, I call to her, “Reg and I are going inside!”
Anita laughs wholeheartedly, knowing what this means for her and the little, white dog.
~ ~ ~
In the next post . . .
Anita reports on their first night together!
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