| ABC Dog School |
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| Grizzle |
| Grizzle is another of Star's pups, evident by his curly tail. He was over two years old when he joined my pack. Before that, he was tied to various dog boxes, getting loose sometimes, and not always having shade or shelter. He was the only dog of his color, which made him stand out, but he got my attention by his resemblance to my dog, Grizzly. I don't know where he was the day of the great escape, when four of the pups ended up at my house. That was in April of 2006, when they were around six months old. I found out his name was Buster. In the spring of 2007, I asked if I could have him, and for the first time, I got no for an answer. His owner said that the pup her daughter had taken, was too rambunctious for the baby, so they were going to trade. I wondered if his life would improve, but I was afraid it might be even worse. I kept watching, and Buster stayed where he was. I don't know what happened to that deal. By this time, he was in the Yorkie pen, behind the trailer. Later in the summer, I came home for break one day, and saw him snagged on the fence. His cable must have been about 12" long. It was really hot, over 95, and he had no shade. He was panting really fast. I called the owner, and she said she'd just been out to water him. She didn't seem to think there was a problem. When I got home that evening, he was tied in the trees, where he stayed for a couple of days with no dog house. Then he was back in the pen, and we had another hot day of over 95. The owner had taken the truck bed liner off of the pen because he climbed on top of it, and so she left him there again without shade. I didn't call her this time. In the fall, Buster got moved to a pitiful-looking dog house in the trees. He mostly slept on the ground, even when it was raining. As the weather got colder, I found it hard to watch him living like that. One day he slept on top of the box all day in a soaking rain. I finally couldn't stand it any longer. I called the pound and told them if they didn't do something I would have a nervous breakdown. The next day, Buster had a better box. But he still slept out in the rain. The humane officer had suggested that he may simply enjoy it. I didn't think that was the case. No animal stays out in that kind of rain if it can find shelter. This was around Thanksgiving. After watching him suffer on, I yelled over at him one day, that if he would chew through his cable and come over here, he'd never have to go back. It wasn't long before he showed up in my front yard! He let me walk right up to him. His collar was so tight that I thought it was embedded in his neck, and it took awhile to work it loose. His owner was at his box, wondering where he was, so I had to break my promise and turn him loose. I hoped she wouldn't tighten his collar up again. He posed for a photograph, and then I went inside to get ready for work. When I looked outside, I saw his owner in my driveway looking for him, and calling. I assumed she had caught him when I went out later to go to work. But when I came home for break, I saw that he'd had some fun first. A bag of old clothing had been dragged out of the garage, and it was everywhere, from the road to the back yard. There was so much in the driveway, I had to stop and move it. When I looked over to his box, he was tied up. A few days later, he was back again. It was Christmas day, and I was getting ready to go out for dinner. I assumed no one was at home over there, as they spend most of their time elsewhere. They'd be at their daughter's today. Since they had taken Annie home a few weeks before, her pen was available, so I put him in there and left. When I got home, he was still here. Every day I wondered if I'd come home from work and find him gone. The owner was coming over to feed him, but she was leaving him here. I don't know why she did that. She knew I wouldn't mind, but, it's still puzzling. As it turned out, she called me a week later and asked if I still wanted him. Whew! Did I! She said her husband told her to let me have him. Thank you! Buster reminds me of a small version of my big ol' Grizzly, who passed away in May of 2006, and he's in the same pen. At first I called him Buster Browndog, or just Browndog. But then I saw the name, Grizzle, in a magazine and thought it was perfect for a small Grizzly. And he has a grizzled coloring. I believe it's called agouti. Grizzle doesn't have a great dog house, but it's dry, and he's never slept outside in the rain since he's been here. Actually, he's in the box a lot, whether it's raining or not. He quickly learned to sit on command, and now he does it with a flourish. He twirls around first. He wasn't that energetic when he first came, but he has livened up considerably. Of course, he gets better food; he's been wormed; he has toys; and he gets affection and praise. It does make a difference. He comes in at night, too. When I come home, nobody barks at me. They just say, "Nothing to worry about. It's just Mom." But sometimes Grizzle picks up his "pooter" ball, in case we might play a game. |
| copyright 2009 Carole J Sulser |
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