WHO RESCUED WHO?
It’s me, Elvis. Mam is in the last round of edits (a.k.a freaking out) before she ships book five off to the editor, and I said I would fill in for her. So, if you’ve followed Mam, you know the sun rises and sets on me. I’m even mentioned on the back of the book, but I’m offended that she used the word “scruffy.” I prefer to think I have the tousled look – sort of like Farrah Fawcett but way better.
Anyhow, Mam wrote a blog post about how we met a while ago, but since it’s National Rescue Dog Day, let me tell you the other side of the story…
I’m a Vegas girl with long blonde hair and melty chocolate eyes. I’m fun size—small enough to be picked up if necessary or if I just don’t feel like walking any longer—you can’t do that easily with an eighty-pound Labrador and go very far. Mam once had a guy ask if I was a miniature golden retriever, and she just smiled and told him he had a discerning eye for rare canine breeds.
But I digress; the title of this little piece is Who Rescued Who, so let’s get down to it. It’s hard to believe I’ve been hanging out with the crazy lady for over a decade. I had fallen on hard times. Lady luck had dealt me a few too many unfriendly hands, and I found myself living in a shelter. It wasn’t bad. I’ll be honest: I had lived worse on the streets. However, the clock was ticking on my stay, and after a few months, it would be…well, let’s not talk about unpleasant things.
So there I was, hanging out on the front porch of my temporary digs, waiting for the six o’clock whistle when the shelter closed and those of us living there could exhale after a long day of looking cute. (I’ll let you in on an insider secret. If we get a non-kosher vibe from the people checking us out, we purposefully do the weird things-licking ourselves, turning around to face the wall, chasing our tails so that you walk on by.
Anyhow, word began to filter down through the bark exchange that a couple was walking through, and they looked okay. She was petite and skinny with fuzzy blonde hair and anxious blue eyes. He was the talk of the walk—tall, handsome, with a luxurious salt and pepper mustache that begged to be batted playfully. He looked like the quiet type—she not so much. They had apparently had a date with another dog, but it didn’t work out, and the man suggested they hang out until closing instead of sitting in the grueling Las Vegas afternoon traffic.
Fine, I thought to myself, it’s only a few more minutes. Look cute, smile, wag the tail, and once they pass by, exhale. I could hear them (I mean her) coming and…well…it was like a bolt of lightning. The Ying to my Yang, the Thelma to my Louise, and the peanut butter to my bacon. Mam and I locked eyes, and it was as if a thousand slot machines went off at once. It must have been the same for her because she looked me in the eye and said, “Tomorrow, I’m springing you from this place.” She wasn’t lying. I think she was at the shelter before it opened.
Mam and I have been joined at the hip ever since, although I will admit I was ready to strangle her on the cross-country trip from Vegas to Louisville. When Mam’s happy, I’m ecstatic. When she’s down, I’m by her side, always ready to protect her from that d!@# vacuum.
Then came a day I will never forget. Things had been gray in Mam’s and the hubster’s world. I knew something was up. Then strangers kept coming by the condo, and boxes appeared. Great, moving again, I thought to myself. I had finally gotten all of the pee-mail accounts up to date. “We’re retiring and moving,” she told me. Fat chance, I thought. That will last about a minute.
A long car ride, followed by a plane trip (I had my own seat, of course) and another car ride. “Well, here we are,” the hubster said, opening the gate. Mam unharnessed me, and I ran carefree in the sand. It was all mine.
We’ve been here two years now. Mam hasn’t quite cut back on her hours, but now she smiles while she works, and five o’clock signals quitting time. No more long hours and nights. No more paws frozen by the snow. No more gray days. These days, I have sunshine, endless belly rubs, and gourmet treats (peanut butter, bacon, and banana), but the best of all is the two humans. I’ve got them all to myself.
So, who rescued who? I think you could say it was a win-win.
Anyhow, Mam wrote a blog post about how we met a while ago, but since it’s National Rescue Dog Day, let me tell you the other side of the story…
I’m a Vegas girl with long blonde hair and melty chocolate eyes. I’m fun size—small enough to be picked up if necessary or if I just don’t feel like walking any longer—you can’t do that easily with an eighty-pound Labrador and go very far. Mam once had a guy ask if I was a miniature golden retriever, and she just smiled and told him he had a discerning eye for rare canine breeds.
But I digress; the title of this little piece is Who Rescued Who, so let’s get down to it. It’s hard to believe I’ve been hanging out with the crazy lady for over a decade. I had fallen on hard times. Lady luck had dealt me a few too many unfriendly hands, and I found myself living in a shelter. It wasn’t bad. I’ll be honest: I had lived worse on the streets. However, the clock was ticking on my stay, and after a few months, it would be…well, let’s not talk about unpleasant things.
So there I was, hanging out on the front porch of my temporary digs, waiting for the six o’clock whistle when the shelter closed and those of us living there could exhale after a long day of looking cute. (I’ll let you in on an insider secret. If we get a non-kosher vibe from the people checking us out, we purposefully do the weird things-licking ourselves, turning around to face the wall, chasing our tails so that you walk on by.
Anyhow, word began to filter down through the bark exchange that a couple was walking through, and they looked okay. She was petite and skinny with fuzzy blonde hair and anxious blue eyes. He was the talk of the walk—tall, handsome, with a luxurious salt and pepper mustache that begged to be batted playfully. He looked like the quiet type—she not so much. They had apparently had a date with another dog, but it didn’t work out, and the man suggested they hang out until closing instead of sitting in the grueling Las Vegas afternoon traffic.
Fine, I thought to myself, it’s only a few more minutes. Look cute, smile, wag the tail, and once they pass by, exhale. I could hear them (I mean her) coming and…well…it was like a bolt of lightning. The Ying to my Yang, the Thelma to my Louise, and the peanut butter to my bacon. Mam and I locked eyes, and it was as if a thousand slot machines went off at once. It must have been the same for her because she looked me in the eye and said, “Tomorrow, I’m springing you from this place.” She wasn’t lying. I think she was at the shelter before it opened.
Mam and I have been joined at the hip ever since, although I will admit I was ready to strangle her on the cross-country trip from Vegas to Louisville. When Mam’s happy, I’m ecstatic. When she’s down, I’m by her side, always ready to protect her from that d!@# vacuum.
Then came a day I will never forget. Things had been gray in Mam’s and the hubster’s world. I knew something was up. Then strangers kept coming by the condo, and boxes appeared. Great, moving again, I thought to myself. I had finally gotten all of the pee-mail accounts up to date. “We’re retiring and moving,” she told me. Fat chance, I thought. That will last about a minute.
A long car ride, followed by a plane trip (I had my own seat, of course) and another car ride. “Well, here we are,” the hubster said, opening the gate. Mam unharnessed me, and I ran carefree in the sand. It was all mine.
We’ve been here two years now. Mam hasn’t quite cut back on her hours, but now she smiles while she works, and five o’clock signals quitting time. No more long hours and nights. No more paws frozen by the snow. No more gray days. These days, I have sunshine, endless belly rubs, and gourmet treats (peanut butter, bacon, and banana), but the best of all is the two humans. I’ve got them all to myself.
So, who rescued who? I think you could say it was a win-win.
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