I don't tend to talk a lot about my home life on the blog. It's just not my style (and I know no one is really interested in my pets, personal drama, etc.), but today I'm going to make an exception. I'm not going to be able to post much today, so I thought I'd share why...
About a month ago, we adopted a stray dog that was wandering the neighborhood and named him Lucky. We already have two dogs. Fritz, my ancient rat terrier is in my icon above and Frieda, our fox terrier isn't very big either. Lucky's a boxer/pit bull mix and has all of the clownish qualities and smarts that make boxers so endearing in a pit bull size. He's always stuck up my ass anymore and wherever I go, so does he. (See the picture. You thought I was overstating the facts, didn't you? When I say the dog is "stuck up my ass," I mean it! That's the bed Jerame had to try and climb into the other night. Notice that Lucky, Frieda and I are already asleep.)
He was obviously being trained for dog fighting (No matter what Jasmyne Cannick says, dog fighting is a serious problem and not just a way for the white man to be racist.) since he has a few scars, is terrified of chains and will try to attack your hand if you wear gloves (most dog trainers use thick gloves to help handle the dogs - I, however, just want to weed the flowerbeds). In our area of town several Hispanic rings of dog trainers have been operating and Lucky only "spoke" Spanish when he arrived. He's a rough-and-tumble type of dog - completely the opposite of what I'm used to with two little terrier lap dogs. I would never choose a dog like this personally, but, you see, Lucky chose us instead of the other way around...
Jerame had gone outside to water the flowers and called from the front porch, "C'mere and look at this boxer!" Lucky had gone trotting past and had walked up to another neighbor's big concrete and wrought iron gate. He was standing on his hind feet and pushing the gate back and forth, rocking with all his might and making a heckuva racket. Jerame mentioned that the neighbor might be dog sitting since it obviously wanted (back) in so badly, but he didn't want to walk up there with such a crazed large dog standing at the gate. Never one for caution, I walked up and opened the gate.
He ran straight up to the lady's door and started "knocking." I rang the bell and when she came to the door she stepped outside. Lucky sat down at her feet and started to lick her knee. She'd never seen him before though and had no idea where he came from. "You may not know him, but he sure knows you," I told her as he ran off into her side yard. Between her two story house and the six foot fencing that ran around that portion of the yard, he was trapped there.
After all the noise, some of our other neighbors had come over to see what was going on. (Jerame finally made it over there too. *grins*) They wanted to see what he looked like in case anyone recognized him; if no one did, one of us would keep him overnight and take him to the pound the next day. The woman went to call the dog from the side yard and into the fenced front yard so the neighbors could have a gander.
No dog. He was gone.
She started to get a little freaked out and I asked her if she wasn't sure her guardian angel wasn't a dog... Maybe she should check and see if the house is on fire, I thought. Suddenly, here came Lucky sailing over top of her six foot fence back into the side yard. One of the neighbor dogs was in heat - and he was determined to get some. There went keeping him in her yard overnight... Since we had a tree to tie him to and a fence, we got drafted into duty.
It rained that night and, of course, Lucky had to move indoors and out of the wet night. He quickly started putting on a show and making himself at home. One smart dog...
At the animal shelter the next day, we found out he wasn't microchipped or reported missing anywhere. The nice woman there told us that he'd be put to sleep since pitt bulls weren't considered "adoptable" after a rash of dog bites in the city lately. And so, "Lucky" found himself a new home.
Yesterday, we had him fixed.
The surgery didn't go very well apparently, since his stuff is swollen up 3x what it was and he's obviously in a lot of pain. (He has a vet appointment at 4:30 so they can look him over again.) All day today, he's been whining and won't lay down anywhere but in my lap - which means no real blogging or doing much but sitting on the couch and watching TV with a big muffin-head in your lap. (It's taken since this morning to write all this in between lap-time.)
And I'm thinking Lucky doesn't feel so lucky right about now.