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Maggie Checks In

For the past three days, we’ve been trying to figure out the life story of our little houseguest. She is quite a bundle of mysteries. For starters, this is probably the best behaved dog we have ever seen. No jumping on the screen door, no barking, no chewing, house broken, works perfectly on a leash, great around kids, no snapping or biting at ankles or anything that might get you concerned about a dog. She is also a popular breed and color of dog, one that often goes for several hundred dollars, so its not like the neighborhood mutt or something, she’s not a show dog, but a quality dog just the same. She has gone AWOL from her home and there’s a problem there, but we couldn’t figure out why she would be away from home this long without any sign that anyone was looking for her. We just assumed that her family had gone on vacation and left someone else in charge of the dog, and the dog simply got out while in the care of an amateur.

On Tuesday morning we went to the SPCA and sure enough, she had an identity chip and that’s how we found out her name and identified the owners. The SPCA left messages for the owner and we sat back and waited; expecting a call back right away. After all, who wouldn’t be scouring the countryside for this dog? But the longer the delay went on the more the mystery deepened, just where were the people that owned this dog and why weren’t they worried about their dog being missing?

When I found her, she was darting in and out of traffic near the mall and had it not been for the sound of cars slamming on their brakes to avoid hitting her I would have just kept walking. But what are you going to do, let a perfectly good dog get mowed down, or try to get her back home or at the very least get her to the shelter so someone could take care of her. I expected we would watch her for a day or so, and then signs would pop up in the neighborhood looking for the lost dog and the mystery would be solved and the good deed done.

But, here we were on day three, and no signs, no returned calls, no inquiries at the local shelters. What’s this all about?

Well tonight the mystery was solved. “Magnum” was once owned by a couple, which began to divorce about a year after they got her. A year later, the man had a friend who agreed help out and take care of the dog until the newly divorced man was settled into a new place as he was living in a condo at the time. The friend, who works long hours, was only able to spend about an hour a day with the dog. Needless to say, the original owner decided after he finally moved to a new home that he really didn’t want the dog after all as it “wasn’t what he hoped it would be”. Now the friend finds himself stuck with a dog that he didn’t ask for and one that he can’t really take care of either. “Magnum” who was first owned by a couple who soon stopped being a couple was now being kept in the garage of a home of a second owner. When he got home at the end of the day, she often bolted out of the yard only to be found days later at the shelter, to the tune of 100 dollars for each visit. He had decided that the next time she ran off, to simply ask the shelter to put her up for adoption. He simply couldn’t care for her; it was a favor that had gone on too long.

And this is where I came in.

For the past three days I have been totally taken in by this lovely dog. The first night was a bit tedious, as she would not allow me to sleep unless I was in contact with her but once I figured out what she wanted, I simply slept with one hand dangling off the side of the sofa and she nuzzled up accordingly. The next day, she was never more than a few feet away at any time, but she didn’t require the physical contact at ‘sleep time’ anymore, so that was fine with me. My daughter, who is deathly afraid of all animals no matter how small and harmless, surprisingly found herself madly in love with the dog. A week ago if you had told me that my daughter would be the first to suggest a walk with the dog, and to go so far as to hold the leash and to go running with the dog, I would have said it was simply impossible as my daughter has often fallen over into panic fits at just the sight of a dog, so it was without question an impossibility that she would ever consider coming into close contact with a dog. Yet, she had done just that. My son, who wanted a black lab more than any present at Christmas and now had one, was just ecstatic over the whole adventure. Finally!, “a dog of my own” he said, even if it was just temporary.

So when the phone rang tonight and the current owner came over to retrieve the dog, my daughter, the girl who ca'nt stand to even be in the same room as hamsters, dogs, cats, anything furry and alive at all, sat and cried for a half hour as she realized her new friend was really going home at last. My son, older and wiser by all of three years, knew that this was always a possibility but also knew that one his mother’s seemingly insurmountable arguments about getting a dog was now a great deal more surmountable now that his sister had shown that with just the right dog, she was fine. It was just a question of getting the right dog, thats all...

I was happy that she was going to her home, but sad that I wouldn’t get more of the company I had grown to enjoy over the past three days. I had forgotten how much I missed dogs until this week. I was happy that my daughter had gotten past a fear and grown to enjoy the dog for what she was. I was happy that we were in fact getting a step closer to getting a dog, maybe not this dog, but some dog some day soon. My wife was just happy that the dog was going home, and that all of the things that come with a dog, the smells, the food, the upkeep and responsibilities, where not coming to our house any time soon.

She had been through it all before, only to have it suddenly taken away. Our last dog, a Lab-Shepard mix was raised by her and was her constant companion for the years that I was perpetually on the road long before we had kids. When we were first married and young apartment dwellers, she always pined for a dog and soon after we bought our first house, one of the first things we did was get her a dog. The dog was a magnificent dog and was as much a part of the family as it could be. It wasn’t just a pet or a possession; it was a part of our shared experience as sort of “pre-baby” for the young couple. Years later the dog was senselessly and viciously killed in a fit of revenge by one of our former neighbors who in an act of spite shot the dog and left her wounded only to be found hours later by my wife and I. The sudden senseless loss of Grace broke my wife’s heart and she swore never again to allow herself to feel the grief she felt when she was killed. Dogs, and the subject of bringing them into the house was one thing that was never to be discussed from that day forward. It was a wound that would not heal and still in many ways remains with us. It would be years before she would even allow herself to walk down the pet food aisle at the grocery store.

I knew I was a crossing a line when I brought home “Magnum”. I knew it was going to be a problem, but it wasn’t like I went looking for the dog it wasn’t my idea at all, in fact it was more like it was the dogs idea than it was mine. I didn’t go looking for the dog; I was simply trying to keep her from getting killed. I asked my wife “What would you have done?” when she asked me why I had to bring her home. She reluctantly agreed, there really wasn’t anything you could do, either accept some basic responsibility for the dog, or be prepared to drive by the spot of road kill she would have certainly have become. Even she could not just abandon the dog to the traffic.

So tonight the mystery of “Magnum” was solved when the owner arrived and shared with us his and her story. Then he did something none of us expected; he asked us the one thing no one expected:

“ So any chance you folks want a dog?”

You could have heard a pin drop. The kids gasped out loud, knowing what a sore subject it was with their mother and how yet another line had been crossed in the short span of three days. Of all the scenarios we had mapped out with the dog; this was not one of them, no one saw it coming. I knew what I wanted to say, hell yes I wanted the dog! She’s gorgeous, she’s perfectly well behaved, she is THE freaking perfect dog, why the hell wouldn’t you want it, and just look at her buddy, she wants to be here! (The dog had barely wagged its tail when the owner arrived, much less moved to greet him, she should have been jumping for joy – clearly something was amiss…).

But I knew it wasn’t my call. I knew what my wife was thinking, and I knew why. The loss of Grace had torn out her heart when it came to pets; and that pain wasn’t going to go away just because some stray animal wandered in one day. To her, a pet was all burden with nothing but pain for reward in the end.

He told us that he was in all likelihood going to have to take her to the shelter as he really couldn’t take care of a dog and that this dog really deserved a family, not a single man who was never home. My wife took his phone number, but none of us expected much to change, it was just a way of moving things along to their conclusion. We all waved goodbye to our little houseguest as she walked off, looking over her shoulder at us with her tail down.

“That doesn’t look like a dog going home to me” she said. “She’s not going home, she’s going to the pound” I said quietly in return as the sadness and finality of it all filled the open door.

The kids and I sat huddled together in my office whispering about the dog we had just gotten to know while my wife stood at the door listening to us trying to make the best of it.

After a few minutes of watching this, she let out a sigh and asked, “So, do you want me to call him back?” I told the kids to stick out their lower lip and put on their most pathetic faces for maximum effect.

Well it worked. She got the message and made the call, taking a risk not for herself for something she really didn’t want but for her family who clearly did.

Before the hour was out, "Magnum" was back, her doghouse and favorite leash in tow. Now she lays asleep; in the sound sleep of narrowly saved, at my feet in my office, and all is as it should be.

Now at last the ghost of Grace might finally have a chance to rest as the new dog, now known as “Maggie” takes her place in our lives.

Posted @ December 29, 2005 02:30 AM | Current Affairs

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