I live out of town. In a minute I can be within the heart of my mountains enjoying only the company of the desert's solitude. Though my surroundings are more populated now than when I first moved here 11 years ago, they can only be considered rural, with large spans of desert separating most homes and some developments.
Yesterday, on his way to physical therapy, my husband found him lost in one of those barren spans of land. He immediately ran towards the car, jumped in and cuddled on my husband's lap. I went to get him and took him to the animal shelter to check if he had an identification chip. He didn't and he wasn't wearing a collar. "Do you want to leave him here or are you taking him home?" the attendant asked. The decision was made instantaneously and home he came. "If no one claims him in three days he's yours or you can always bring him back," said the girl while subtly stabbing my obvious mushy heart.
We wondered how a puppy could be roaming the desert far from any houses with no identification. Was he abandoned there? Perhaps not and he just ran away from home. Maybe someone will claim him today. But if they don't we can understand and withhold judgment.
We wondered how a puppy could be roaming the desert far from any houses with no identification. Was he abandoned there? Perhaps not and he just ran away from home. Maybe someone will claim him today. But if they don't we can understand and withhold judgment.
Tasmanian Devil is the most appropriate name for him. However, I called him Leroy because he reminded me of a junior high school student I once had. Fresh out of college, I looked so young that often other teachers mistook me for a student. Leroy took full advantage of that. He sensed my insecurities and never passed up a chance to cause me problems. Finally, one day I confronted him alone. I admitted to him that I was inexperienced but I really wanted to do a good job. I pointed out that he was a born leader and as such he had control of the class. Would he instead of using that gift to make trouble use it instead to help me. Leroy became a model student. Others followed his example.
Well I can't very well have a heart to heart with Leroy the dog, but I've tried. He's settled down a little and I really think he can be a model dog when he matures. I captured this picture during one of his calm episodes last night.
If everything in life has meaning, what does this mean? I had been known to state that I never wanted a boxer (my daughter's whines, and drools too much and too often a gas mask is required if you must be in the same room), yet I
found Daisy via an Internet photo and I bonded before I ever even met her.
The final decision remains to be made. But I ask myself - what are the chances of finding another boxer, so cute and funny? Is it possible that the Universe has manifested a gift for me to mark the anniversary of something that has transformed my life? Perhaps so.
I am grateful. If Leroy becomes a part of my family...thank You. If he's only here for a few days...thank You.
For a year of blogging miracles...thank You!
Today, a year has passed since I nervously designed a blogging page and began this journey. It's been wonderful!
Thank you my friends.
