Chapter 6 The Foundling and the Disciplinarian

I'm the kind of person who takes in orphans, not the human kind but winged or four legged types.  There was a black Labrador that kept making appearances at the high school.  It seems he was trying to teach the gym classes.  My son being much like his mother thought this lab needed a home because he had no collar and had come to teach the class on several consecutive days.  My son left class,  to remove the lab from the gym and stayed outside with the little black guy who was about 9 months old at the time.    This was an extremely friendly dog and wanted to be around people.  My son called me from outside the school via his cell phone to tell me about this dog.  Instantly my interest was peaked.  Surely our fluffy male dog, Mickey Blue Eyes needed a friend.  Somewhere in the recesses of my brain a little thought kept nagging at me, something about male dogs being territorial.  Ignoring the itch in my brain, I jumped in my car and headed for the school.  Mind you I had already rescued two other male dogs that had ventured onto our ranch but was fortunate enough to place them back with their own families.  Surely I was thinking of doing the same with the lab I was about to bring home.  Arriving at the school I met the black lab who must have thought he had finally found his mama.  Into the back of my car he jumped and home we went.

 

Upon arriving home my husband asked me what I was going to do with this dog.  For some reason he had taken an instant dislike to this little homeless fellow...must have been a difference in personalities.  My husband is sort of a quiet fellow and so was Mickey our fluffy dog.  It was clear from the get go that this black guy was inquisitive and full of personality.  I assured my husband that I would find the dog's owners within a week.  I placed fliers all over town and in the two towns on either side of us, in vets offices and grocery stores.  Weeks turned into months and months turned into years....the black guy was already home!  Our vet informed us that someone had recently dumped a litter of black labs and Jack Russel Terriers.   Like it or not, I was going to keep this dog,,,if the dog went then so would I.  This was cause for many heated discussions.  As much as my husband disliked this dog and still does today, he was kind to him, feeding him and paying his medical bills but refusing to speak to him except to call him a few not so nice names...stupid, dumb, and much worse!

I on the other hand fell in love with this funny dog.  He needed a name and the name should fit his personality. He was black like a shadow and he had a habit of chasing his own shadow and the shadow of birds.  He was a bird dog by nature, when he would spot a bird in the yard, off he would go.  The bird would disappear but the shadow was still on the ground as the bird flitted into the air.  The dog chased the bird's shadow.  His name must be Shadow and so it was.

Mickey was not happy about this new family member either.  Mickey was a full year or more older and in a dog's life that is significant.  He had passed through his puppy stage and had become a man or at least a teenager.  This new black guy was still a kid and Mickey did not like his antics.  Mickey forgot how he use to steal the worker's gloves and tools when they turned their heads.  He would sneak up on a pair of gloves laid aside for a few minutes and very stealthily amber off with one.  Sometimes a chase would ensue, all fun and games.  Months after the house was complete we would find the odd tool or glove laying off in the distance that Mickey had managed to get away with.  Those were days in the past, who wants to remember how naughty they were when they were young?  He was not going to tolerate this new guy.

Shadow was very happily occupying his time with "eating" anything left within his reach.  He demolished patio cushions, door mats, shoes, dish towels and even the wooden handle on tools.  His favorite past time?  Digging...he would have been a great pig employed to dig up truffles.  We are lucky there is a tree still standing in our yard.  He literally digs tunnels under them and I am forever following after him with a rake, filling in the holes and tunnels.  This habit earned him some awful names with my spouse.  I sometimes wonder if it makes him sad that my husband will not speak to him except in a nasty tone.  For Micky it's always, "Hey Boy", while Shadow just stands by waiting patiently, hoping perhaps that this will be the time he gets a pat and a "Hey Boy".   I try to make up for it...they are both, "my boys".

Mickey ignored Shadow as much as possible but sometimes he let his guard down and played with him.  They went through ages and stages and sometimes awful fights would occur.  We quickly learned the safest way to stop a dog fight was with water.  We knew better than to get in the middle.  Mickey did not like being cornered or loud noises and excitement.  He was a herd dog and was very serious about it.  He would herd us by nipping at our heels or trying to grab our ankles in his mouth, gently of course.  He practiced his herding on Shadow who thought it was all fun and games.  Nothing seemed to phase Shadow, he was just a good old boy.  A friend came to visit from the city for a weekend.  As she arrived we were all gathered around her vehicle which she parked next to mine.  We were standing in that slip of a space hugging and chatting, welcoming our guest.  Shadow was excited too as he welcomed our new visitor.  Mickey was not at all happy with this situation and quickly disciplined Shadow.  Shadow loved visitors and he was not going to be told to back away.  It turned into a real brawl.  They latched onto each other growling and biting, it was awful.  There is just something very frightening about a dog fight.   I ran for the hose and in the true nature of hoses, it crimped and the crimp got caught on a column about 30 feet away.  My guest, good sport that she was, and I went running for the crimp to untangle the damned hose(someone needs to invent a hose that does not crimp).  Arriving back on the scene of the fight we found our son in the middle of it.  He knew better, he had been taught to never get in the middle of an animal fight.  The damned hose was too short, now what? There I was standing at the scene trying to make the hose squirt further than it possibly could, talk about frustration and feeling helpless.  I had to get my son out of the middle of this brawl before he got hurt,,,,oops, too late.  Mickey closed his eyes and bit down on what he thought was Shadow but it was my son's wrist.  The boy let out a scream that would have woken the Gods of sleep.  Mickey had his victim and he was not turning loose.  What to do but go to the rescue,,,so into the middle of the fight goes mom.  I had to stick my fingers into Mickey's jaws, thus getting bitten myself, in order to pry them open enough for the boy to slip his arm out, which he did but not without a fang ripping some flesh as the arm left the mouth.  Mickey opened his eyes at this point and the fight ended, I think my husband finally got some water on the scene.  The boy was screaming in pain and blood was flowing freely.  I thought the artery had been severed.  Into the house and arm under running water we determined the artery was in tact.  The arm was soaked in Epsom salts and cold water, medicated and bandaged.  The child refused to go to the emergency room.  His tetanus was current, all I had to do was watch it for infection.  The arm healed but left a nasty scar that the boy is proud of to this day.  Why do guys like scars on their bodies?  He has since added many more through his various antics.

Mickey Blue Eyes, who would ever believe this cute little fellow would ever grow up to be such a disciplinarian?  When the house was still under construction, one of the plumbers was so frightened of this sweet blue eyed pup.  He called him "Cujo" and kept his distance going from his truck to the house while looking all around to make sure "Cujo" wasn't closing in on him!

That was the beginning of many fights between these two animal children.  Shadow could never get the best of Mickey.  Mickey had four of the longest fangs I have ever seen, possibly from his Pyrenees heritage.  I believe these herd dogs are known for being capable of snapping a predator's neck if need be to protect the herd.

There were more dog fights on the horizon.  Mickey had become a very strange dog since Shadow arrived.  I'm sure a doggy psychologist could have gotten to the bottom of his problems and diagnosed him with depression, jealousy or manic depressive disorder.  I think it was simply a herd problem, something to do with alpha dog.  Shadow was still not full grown, but he was going to be eventually...oh yes he was.  He began to walk circles around Mickey, wide circles, always keeping a wary eye.  Dogs have some secret language that humans don't understand, but if you watch them enough you can at least notice it is taking place.  Shadow would just be walking along seemingly minding his own business and Mickey would look like he was taking a nap when suddenly he would open one eye and then spring on Shadow.  Poor Shadow, he would just cry, like he was wondering, "What the hell have I done this time?"  I learned to have garden hoses placed on every corner of the house.  If one wasn't available we would grab the dog's water bucket and dump it on them,,,,it worked, dogs just don't like having water dumped on them.

When I would pet Mickey, Shadow would stand at bay and wait his turn.  The dogs had finally quit fighting so much but I noticed that Shadow was changing.  He began to bark at Mickey, I don't know what he was saying but I'm thinking it was something like, "You better watch out and leave me alone cause I've grown up."  And yes he had,,,,he finally quit stealing shoes and eating them.  I no longer found digested dish towels in the yard and the doggy blanket quit shrinking piece by piece.