abcsula

ABC Dog School

Sula

I'm partial to black and tan dogs. I suspect this is because, when I was a mere toddler, I was imprinted by a black and tan coon dog mix named Pug. She was my first furry friend. So when I saw that some of the puppies next door who were being poorly cared for, were of that coloring, I began to entertain thoughts of choosing one of them to keep.

   It was a short time after the big rescue event in April, that I mentioned this to my neighbor, and asked if she had any males. Soon she was back, dragging a small pup on a leash, and she seemed eager for me to take the little fellow off her hands. One problem...his right eye was huge, he was downright unappealing, and I saw dollar signs floating off in the direction of the vet clinic.   I made no committment that day.

   As it turned out, she had another male black and tan that she didn't tell me about. I saw him one day when he got loose from wherever he'd been stashed, and, noticing his funny ears, sort of like Dutch Boy's, I was tempted to ask about him. Due to financial constraints, I held myself in check. Maybe because by this time I had become very attached to Belle, who is black and tan, also, and was beginning to understand that she wouldn't ever be going back where she came from.

   The bug-eyed boy was apparently kept in one of the utility sheds, so I didn't see him again for awhile. Where he showed up next was the little pen in the back yard. Except he didn't stay in it. A three-foot fence is just no barrier for a normal-sized dog!

   One evening I happened to see that he had jumped out, with just enough cable to reach the ground. He was able to sit, but not lie down, and there he remained all night and well into the next morning. Every so often I would hear him crying, but of course no one cared to find out why. I was livid! What torture it must have been for him to be unable to lie down all night. And, of course, there was no water within reach.

   I decided it was time to rescue him. Thinking he could join the spotted dog in the double pen, I had the neighbor bring him over, but he felt too threatened by the other pup's exhuberance. It was a simple matter of replacing some fencing to divide the pen as it had been originally. Each side had a gate. I got right on it. In the meantime, the bug-eyed pup returned to his own digs.

   It wasn't long after that, on a rainy afternoon, I noticed he was outside the pen with plenty of cable and no shelter. He lay on the ground for hours, getting soaking wet. It was 4-H night, and I was preparing to go to the fairgrounds to teach obedience class. The weather forecast was for freezing temperatures that night. Not good for a wet dog sleeping on the ground. What to do???

   I don't remember if I called them, or knocked on their door, but no one seemed to be home. So, collar and leash in hand, I stole into their back yard where I found the pup inside the fence. I had to pull him under it to get him away. He seemed willing to go. What a relief it was to get him home and into a doghouse! When the neighbor came the next morning to feed, I told her why I had brought him over, explaining about the rain and freezing temperatures. Her response was, "Oh well, I had them out there all winter."

   This is when I realized that she has not a clue that there is anything wrong with keeping dogs outside without shelter! How do you deal with such ignorance? Her parents probably kept dogs the same way. Even though she can plainly see how I provide for my dogs, she probably also thinks that it isn't necessary. It's just my way. So much for learning by example.

   I mentioned to her about the eye needing veterinary attention, told her what it might cost, hoped she'd start saving her pennies. The pup didn't seem to be in pain, but when it appeared to be getting even larger, I feared it would burst. If there was no sight in the eye, he could accidentally puncture it. So I took him to the vet myself. It was decided that removing the eye was probably the best course of action.

   So the eye came out, and we took care of the other end at the same time, to the tune of about $375. When I told the neighbor what I'd done, she didn't have much to say. Didn't offer any monetary recompense. I guess at that point, he became my dog.

   The little guy still didn't have a name. So for many months, he was just Boy. Then, after getting a lot bigger, he was Big Boy.   He went from 49 lbs. to what looks like around seventy! He's a tank. Reminds me of Dutch Boy. Somehow I ended up calling him Sula, who was a Roman general under Julius Caesar, if I remember right. I can't say I like it a lot, but it's better than Big Boy, and maybe I'll change it someday.

   But for now, he's Sula. Sometimes I call him Chico. If I'd thought of it sooner, I might have named him Dewey, since I work in a library. He doesn't care what I call him, as long as I call him. He loves attention.

   Now that we're into winter weather, all the pups come indoors at night. There's a crate for everyone. At first Sula had quite an aversion for doorways, but before long, he was getting there ahead of me! And now, after all this time, I find him quite handsome and loveable.

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