Print

Email story

Comment

Email editor

Guest Column

These pals are more than 'just' dogs

By MARY PARTINGTON
Published January 19, 2007

Deadly thoughts swim through my mind as I read the story of another dog treated inhumanely. Buried alive, left to die a horrid death, with only his barks and whimpers to save his life. This dog has been saved by the kindness of strangers and lovingly cared for. How many times have these stories ripped at our hearts?

Back when we had three children younger than 6, we had a small puppy our 5-year-old son claimed as "his dog." One day the dog got out and found his way to our son's school. I received a phone call from his teacher to come and get the dog and, by the way, could I bring some rags to wipe up the mess the puppy had made? How embarrassing.

That dog had a penchant for running away at the most inopportune times. In the middle of an ice storm, she decided to run away, chain and all. I had three little ones, it was dark, and the ice covered everything. I was hoarse from calling for her and distraught over the dog being out in the ice storm. I couldn't wrap up three young children and take them out in the storm. I heard a knock at the door, and when I opened it a kind gentlemen held Heidi in his arms with the chain still attached.

The man found the dog because the chain had wrapped around a tree and the Good Samaritan was going door to door looking for the owner. The kindness of a stranger again saved a dog and a young boy was joyous.

We had another dog that we inherited from our son when he was in college. He said he found the dog, but we always wondered where he bought the puppy. Our son went back to college and left us with Charlie. Well, he was another unique dog who had a penchant for roaming around. Charlie was a treasure hunter and would return from his travels with trophies such as a slipper, shoe or garden glove. I finally put them out by the mailbox for the owners to see and take. I did not put out the pair of men's pajama bottoms, and I always wondered where they came from.

Charlie continued his wandering ways and as he got older he grew to about the size of half a small coffee table. We lived in the country on a bluff overlooking a lake. There were no leash laws and the neighbors loved to see Charlie. Every morning Charlie would saunter over the back yards to the house four doors away. He would go down the side of the hill and would come home on the same route on the lake side of the houses. As you stood on the deck of our neighbors' house you could see "Charlie's Path." Everyone loved this sweet meandering coffee table of a dog.

One morning I was in a real hurry to get to work and I rushed to the car as the garage door went up, and I gunned the car backward until I heard a thump. I knew immediately what had happened; I had hit Charlie. He was hurt and I started to scream. A neighbor came and helped put Charlie in the back seat of the car. I drove the longest distance in my life, sometimes at 100 mph, flying through red lights, hoping a policeman would stop me so he could help me. All the while I was crying and cursing that I had been so careless. Charlie lasted only one more week. It was an accident, stupid and careless, and I was at fault. I cannot imagine hurting a dog on purpose. The pain and guilt haunt me to this day.

Good friends and neighbors have a wonderful spaniel named Brittany and the time has come for them to make the heart-wrenching decision to put her down. Twelve years of sweet doggy breath and loving ways and soon this wonderful dog and companion will be just a memory. How sorrow and misery fills their hearts as they do what is in the best interest of this wonderful dog.

They are not "just" dogs. They are insightful, loving, trusting companions making our days rich with their love. When they look at you with those soulful eyes it is beyond comprehension that someone could do something so dastardly.

Mary Partington lives in New Port Richey.

[Last modified January 19, 2007, 07:07:38]