Another snowstorm was arriving, just as we were beginning to see a meltdown from the last. A few feathery snowflakes fell upon my cheek as I began my daily run. I most likely wouldn’t be able to run tomorrow. There would be drifts of snow a foot high by then. The dark clouds and howling winds were ominous.
I carried a plastic baggie in my pocket with food for the dog that lived at the house on the end of my street. He met me, his tail wagging furiously, and placed his two muddy front paws on the sagging fence. They were injured, most likely from trying to dig beneath the barbed wire and escape. I noticed blood mixed with water along the path of the melting snow.
I fed him, and as I walked away he whined nervously, the same as always. He dropped from the fence into the muck that he was forced to trample in daily. With sad eyes, he watched until I was out of sight.
If I couldn’t make it here tomorrow, the dog would have nothing to eat, or even worse…he would die in the below-zero temperatures tonight. The thought of it was more than I could bear.
I had an idea that might save him. I ran back, reached for the rusty latch and swung the gate open. Looking puzzled, the dog limped out, placing his paws on my leg as I bent for a sloppy kiss. I whispered “go, boy, go!”
I went directly home, called the humane shelter, and asked them to pick up a stray dog on my street. I wasn’t long before he was loaded into a warm van. At least he’d be safe tonight.
The next morning I went to the shelter to find him. He came instantly to me, today looking warm and fed, though badly in need of a bath. His rib cage was visible through matted fur.
“I’d like to adopt this dog”, I said to the man tending the animals.
“You want this shaggy, cross-eyed collie? Well, you’ll have to wait a few days to give the owner a chance to claim him”, he replied, so I waited. Of course, no one came.
The day I brought him home with me was a joyous one. When he saw the bowls of food and warm milk, there was a look in his eyes I’ll never forget. He even loved a warm bath.
“My goodness”, I thought, “I don’t even know his name…so what shall I call him?” I took one look at the dog dancing in circles in my yard, and I had the answer.
“Come here, Happy”, I yelled. “Let’s try out your new dog house”.
“Happy”…the perfect name indeed.
Copyright © 2008 Barbara Cagle Ray
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