Lily fumbled in her purse looking for her keys. “When did women get tied down to these damned things?” she asked the void, the ether, in other words, no one. “I don’t see men wandering around with big expensive handbags filled with — who even KNOWS what these are filled with. Not keys, that’s for sure.” Setting her purse on the ground — something her mother had taught her never to do — she checked the pocket of her jacket and there they were. “That’s 3 minutes — MORE — of my quickly vanishing life,” she thought, wondering if she was going to stay awake trying to add up all the minutes she’d lost in her life looking through her purse for her keys.
“Shorty! I’m home!” It was a little strange that Shorty hadn’t already come in hearing her at the door, but, really no big deal. Then she heard the flap of the dog door, uh, flap against the, uh, door and her little mini Aussie flew across the living room in dog rapture and herding dog passion. “How are you, little guy? Did you miss me?” She bent down to hug the little dog. Shorty put his front feet on her knees and reached up to lick her face. What Lily didn’t expect was another flap of the dog door. Shorty leaped into the air, spun around, took two leaping steps and stood beside the most beautiful dog Lily had ever seen. Shorty danced around while the beautiful dog stared at Lily with calm, questioning blue eyes.
“How???” Lily set everything down and got the flashlight out of the silverware drawer (don’t you keep yours there?) and went out to the back yard. She carefully examined the six foot fences on all sides, the gate, everything was as it should be. “How?” Shorty and the beautiful dog followed her around the yard. There were no holes dug under the fence, either, or signs of anything.
“Do you belong to someone?” she asked the beautiful dog. “Someone must be missing you.” But the dog had no collar. Her fur was shaggy and matted and she was a little thin. She looked as if she had had people but not for a while. “Well, I don’t know. Let’s go get your dinner. Tomorrow I’ll take you to my vet to see if you have a microchip. I hope you’re house broken.
Lily got up once in the night to check on the beautiful dog and found her curled up with Shorty on Shorty’s bed. “Hmmm.” Maybe Shorty had been lonely all this time while she was at work. It was a peaceful, lovely thing to see them sleeping together.
The next morning she bundled the beautiful dog into the car. The vet’s assistant checked for a micro-chip and there was nothing. Nothing in all of the databases of lost dogs or Craigslist, either. “Maybe someone dumped her,” said the tech. “What are you going to do? She’s intact. She could’ve gone into heat and, well, you know.”
“Is she pregnant?”
“No. Do you want to make an appointment for a spay?”
“I don’t know. I guess I should take her to the Humane Society.”
The tech shrugged. “You could do that.
But Lily just took the beautiful dog home. That night when she returned from work, there were two dogs in her living room waiting for her. The next night, too. And every night thereafter. She was pretty sure the beautiful dog had climbed the fence to get into the yard, and could probably climb the fence again to get out. It seemed to Lily that the beautiful dog wanted to stay. Lily had the beautiful dog spayed and named her Bella.
In the passing years, Lily still fumbled for her keys at night when she got home. Shorty and Bella were best friends. Shorty slowed down a bit over time but never lost his passion for life. The Beautiful Dog knew when she was home, and lived her long, mischievous and graceful life with Lily and Shorty, always waiting for a snow storm, always happy to go for a walk.
I saw this beautiful dog yesterday (featured photo) looking for a home through National Mill Dog Rescue (I think) and I would love to bring her here. “Lisa is a gentle and sweet six-year-old Alaskan Husky. She is trying hard to be brave with new people and in new situations and is slowly coming out of her shell. Lisa has recently shown us her friendly side and she does this more when other dogs are around. When Lisa is around other dogs, she is more confident, brave and happy and playful. A home with another, more confident dog will be best for her. Lisa fears sudden movements and loud noises and is considered a flight risk. A home with a secure fence at least 6ft high will be best for Lisa. This kind and gentle soul weighs in at 44lbs. Lisa is available for adoption at National Mill Dog Rescue in Colorado Springs, CO”
Bear would help her feel comfortable and safe and Teddy would play with her. I can’t adopt her, though. I don’t have room or money. I just hope she finds people who understand dogs like her and she lives her life safely and loved. The years I spent with my huskies were some of the hardest of my life, but the huskies were a bright light in the darkness of an abusive relationship, financial problems, the death of my brother, and very long work hours. They were joyous companions on a trail, goofy cheerful clowns, beautiful wild beings with free souls. Lily lived to be 17 years old and got to enjoy one big snow storm here in Colorado.