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Blog Entry 8 of 115 Rampart Mick's Idle Thoughts
Really, that's all my writing is. I appreciate your input / feedback and I encourage each of you to try writing and submitting yourself! The worst that can happen (we hope) is you will be called asinine and an idiot, or clueless, and if I can get over THAT, surely you can too.

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In defense of the little dog

Contributed by: Michael Rule   on 10/16/2006

It has been about a year now since a tragic accident claimed the life of Wylie, my friend and companion for the previous seven or eight years.

Wylie was a mix of Australian shepherd, border collie, spunk and charm. I had taken Wylie off the hands of some friends in The Meadows that were looking for a new home for him. I knew he was good with children, and I wanted my son, who was badly mauled by a dog when he was three, to have a chance to see what a good dog was all about and maybe get over his fear of them a little bit.

Over the years, Wylie went everywhere with me --to work where he got to know many of my clients, on vacations, including six weeks touring the Baja peninsula in our old motor home and on my hikes in the woods or prairie. He was great. When we lost him, I cried like a little boy. I loved that dog.

In the following months I searched half heartedly for a new dog in the shelters. Susan would ask me if this one or that one was "right," I would usually shrug my shoulders and just go on looking. What I was looking for I had already lost, and I think we both knew it.

Then one day we got a call from Susan's son. His roommates had rescued a miniature Australian shepherd from the kennel where one of them worked. The pup had been dropped by prospective owners and had broken his left front leg. The leg had not healed correctly and the pup was going to be put down, as no one wanted him. He needed a home.

Up to north Denver we went to see him. As soon as the little thing was put in Susan's arms she melted. I should have known right then the search was over, but I was adamant -- I didn't want a little dog with a bad leg! We have coyotes out here that would eat him for lunch, and how could he ever hike? I had lots of reasons. Home we went, puppyless. Over the next week or so, Susan kept talking about him, wondering how he was doing. We had another call from her son. The puppy really needed a home. I relented and a few hours later, Lucky arrived in our life.

Now, let me say, Lucky is a very odd dog. At 10 months the vet says he is done growing. My cat, Carmel, weighs more than he does (OK, Carmel is a little overwight, but still ... ). Sometimes when you call him he will run right to you, other times he will run like you just spent the last week beating him. He will follow me as long as I don't look at him. Some people he loves at first sight, others he won't warm up to at all. He barks at me when I come home. We have learned not to leave anything valuable within chewing distance. There has been times my exaspiration reached such levels Susan would volunteer to find him another home.

He can also be very amusing. He absolutely loves to play ball. I will look down sometimes after slaving in front of this computer to find two or three balls gathered up at my feet and him patiently waiting. He loves to jump on the bed and snuggle in the morning. We have a hilarious video clip of him trying to chase a buck deer out of the garden (the deer wasn't amused). And other than occasionally tossing his lunch, he travels quite well.

Last week Susan went to Florida to visit her mom and sisters. The day she left I was outside splitting firewood, when Lucky took off barking at something in the woods. I went looking for him but couldn't find him. He wouldn't come when I called. Then I saw a good sized coyote trot off into the woods. My panic mounted. I kept looking. Susan called to say she had arrived safely in Florida. I didn't tell her I couldn't find Lucky. I felt a pit growing in my stomach. Then, suddenly, there he was trotting home with that silly gait of his, one leg splayed to the side ... And I knew; the little guy had stolen my heart, too.

So now I guess I am converted. Little dogs are actually pretty cool. They eat less, take up less room in the work truck, and are allowed up on the bed in the morning. Is he still a work in progress? Most definitely. Will he be a hiker? I think so.

Rest in peace Wylie, I miss you every day. Where's your ball, Lucky? Go get it!


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Showing 1-7 of 7 comments
Submitted By: Rob Guthrie
posted on 10/24/2006 @ 2:29:32 PM
Rated Blog Entry
You touched my core with this story, Michael. Thank you for sharing it.
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Submitted By: Allyson Reedy
posted on 10/19/2006 @ 4:25:32 PM
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Thanks for writing this. I have a small dog, a pug, and he climbed 6 14ers with me this summer. Small dogs are underrated.
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Submitted By: Charmaine Robledo
posted on 10/17/2006 @ 11:35:29 AM
Rated Blog Entry
I love this story. Thanks for posting it, Michael.
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Submitted By: Daniel Smith
posted on 10/16/2006 @ 3:13:24 PM
Rated Blog Entry
As a fellow dog lover, this is a great story, Michael.
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Submitted By: Brendan Leonard
posted on 10/16/2006 @ 2:57:05 PM
Rated Blog Entry
Great story.
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Submitted By: Barbara Neff
posted on 10/16/2006 @ 12:27:14 PM
Rated Blog Entry
Mick, you make me cry. We have two little shelter dogs, one of which was abused and still shows signs of skittishness, though we have loved him tenderly for over a year. I know the heartbreak when a beloved dog dies. My eyes still tear when I recall losses of family dogs years and years ago. Great, great story. Lucky is so very lucky. So are you and Susan. I hope you bring him buy when you winterize our sprinkler system!
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Submitted By: Candace Ebbinghaus
posted on 10/16/2006 @ 8:00:44 AM
Rated Blog Entry
Oh Mick, what a good story. You brought tears to my eyes...and now to my cheeks. :) We miss Wylie too and can't wait to meet Lucky. Love, yo little sis
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Showing 1-7 of 7 comments
CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION

Michael Rule

Larkspur , CO

Michael Rule has posted 115 blog entries and 1498 comments since joining on 2/23/2006. Michael Rule 's average blog rating is 4.95.
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