After much begging and whining and promising to take perfect care of a dog, should we be lucky enough to get one, Loie and I welcomed a rowdy young beagle into the family and named him Mr. Chips.The problem was, Chipper wasn't allowed inside, so there he was, stuck on a rope or chain in the back of the house, where he got muddy and barked incessantly and wanted nothing more than to play and run free.
This was not what we were expecting, and we didn't know how to take care of him properly.
So our dad finally assured us that he had found a nice farm for Chipper, one where he could run free and have a nice doggy life. He loaded him up in the car, and we sadly waved goodbye.
Whenever I thought about Mr. Chips, I pictured him happy on a farm, leading a carefree life. Little did I know.
Fast-forward about 50 years when the truth comes out. There was no farm. There was no carefree dog cavorting across the fields. There was no happy ending.
Our dad had simply driven him out into the countryside and turned him loose. Did Chipper hunt down rabbits and avoid rabies and make it through the winter? Did he get hit by a car, starve to death?
We'll never know. The happy ending was just another one of Dad's stories.
Goodbye, Mr. Chips.
4 comments:
And I thought Grandad had taken him to someone who wanted him to hunt rabbits! Whatever the story was, I suspected it wasn't the truth.
When and how does a dog owner decide to get rid of a dog? Here in Mexico the answer is,"When the owner wants to." My Spanish teacher just had one of hers put to sleep. It might very well have been "time" because she was 13 years old and had dementia and had gotten aggressive with the other dogs and barked at plants. But mostly, the owner couldn't leave the house without making sure that the old doggie was separated from the others in a penned off area outdoors, etc. She is a lovely intelligent lady. She chides me because I have not "put down" Louie, my blind dog who viciously attacked me. As you all know, Louie is my buddy and "vicious" hardly describes him. She says, "But he's an inconvenience to you!"
Of course here the idea of a shelter is just beginning to come on the radar, let alone our fanatical breed foster groups which make it harder to adopt one of their dogs than to adopt a white infant boy. Here in Mexico the streets are full of "street dogs" (although in my neighborhood they all have guard dogs who roam freely in their spacious yards barking in "kill" mode when Louie and I walk by, and they never get walked), and dogs are, well, dogs. Walt's often pointed out that Mexico,socially, is about like the U.S. in the '50's. So I assume that is the mentality that Daddy was coming from. (And Chipper was hardly an "indoor" type of dog to begin with which was the first mistake.)
I know I'll never find a someone who will take care of Louie like I do. Blind, bites on very rare occasions to protect his meal, needs eye drops and ear meds and grooming = high maintenance. I happen to think that he's worth it and that since I chose him and he chose me, I AM his forever home. If dogs adapt so easily, why do some travel for miles to get back "home"? Although on occasion I've felt like throwing him the river tied to a rock, I've never felt like dumping him along the side of the road or giving him needle. When it feels like euthansia to put him out of his misery, I will,but this is one dog who loves life at the moment and who has the will to destroy that?
He is a great inconvenience to me a few times a year when he can't fly so neither do I, but this is one conflict that I just haven't been able to resolve.
I'd love to hear from my family, all dog lovers, on this. It's a discussion worth having.
However it went down, it was not, I think, a happy ending for our first and only childhood doggy.
Maybe that's why we spoil our little four-legged friends now.
We spoil them because we spoil ALL of our family members!! ;)
Oh, I remember "Chipper"! If you wanted to feed him, you had to practically throw the bowl as close to him as possible to keep him from jumping all over you with his muddy paws. I always felt sorry for him being tied up all the time; but he was not a dog you could train to not jump, to sit, or respond to any command you gave him! I'm sure had he been loved and petted; he could have learned; but that was not possible at our house!
I always heard that Grandad took him away and let him out, never to see him again! But I always hoped he found a good home!
I love dogs; but I also realize there are times when you just have to admire them from afar and not hold them close to your heart OR you will be tied to them forever. We lost a dog that our family loved! She was brought home at the "end of a rope" by Debbie, "claiming she followed her home" :); when she was in grade school, and "Susie" progressed from the carport to part of the house, mostly Debbie's room; but we never let her into our carpeted living area. Don and I love dogs; but we prefer not to have one in our home; so we will admire them from afar!
Post a Comment