In the very best sense, of course. When we came back south this fall to my husband’s family home in Texas, shortly after we arrived a starving little yellow dog was dumped upon us. I think it knew I was coming and decided this was the place to go. I’ve been called The Dog Lady for years, it fits.
She’d been severely abused and, weeks later, is still hand-shy and only my husband has been able to pick her up. She won’t abide a collar and she’s terrified of a slip lead. Once, my father-in-law closed the gate on a dog pen only to find out moments later that she’d escaped its high fence, earning her the nickname “Sneaky.”
After trying to adopt her out through the local Humane Society, which wasn’t much help at all, my in-laws decided to adopt her as “ranch dog” (unlike our little indoor Mini-Aussie Princess Lucia, aka Lulu) and named her Sara. That was my idea. As she started getting less frightened of humans, I saw her one day frolicking in the pasture around the three newest bulls, who I call “The Three Amigos” and smiling. I remembered Sara Smile from Hall & Oates all those years ago. So Sara it is.
In the old days down south the rich folk would sit out on the front porch after supper fanning themselves and drinking iced tea. This would demonstrate to all the neighbors walking by that they could afford both ice, and sugar. No small feat in those days before refrigeration.
Sara started making herself useful right away, patrolling the house regularly. She makes the rounds quite often and is always here for breakfast and dinner. Her new owners got her some high quality puppy food and have an appointment to have her spayed. She’s put on several pounds so that her ribs are no longer visible, and she probably weighs about 20-25 lbs.
The dog next door stops by to visit (hopefully nothing more) and play chase in the pastures. Miss Lulu plays ball with her in the back yard.
This morning Sara was lying in the front yard by the State Hwy. , watching. Her “toy box” is the driveway, where she keeps marrow bones, a priceless tennis ball, my husband’s tied up old tee shirt and now a plastic three-ring tug toy that Lulu only wants to destroy. She and all her worldly possessions are out front for all to see, because now this is HER house and these are HER people.
Hopefully we’ll be able to get her on a leash or in Lulu’s crate for her spay. My husband and I sprung for a new collar, and an ID tag that arrives today. Plus Lulu’s puppy collar and leash with a southwest theme, as nearly six years ago we picked her up from a breeder in Tucson and dressed her appropriately for her flight north.
So, Sara has reason to be house proud. She lets us get a bit closer every day and she has a wonderful temperament. Sad to see that she was dumped on our unsuspecting family but it’s good to know that she has a home. Soon she’ll be hopping on the Gator to go out and feed the cows. Until then, the house is safe from intruders with its new guard pup. Neuter and spay, the kindest way! Dee
Cooking with Dee 