Hey dog buddies! This week I got to meet a Roseland dog who was tossed aside by cruel puppy mill humans when she couldn’t have any more puppies, a story sort of like the one my friend Sheba Doud shared a few weeks ago. Both scary and sad stories and, thank Lassie, both with happy endings.
Destiny Carroll lives with her humans, Pat and John. She was already at the door, barking hello, before John got there to open it. “When you knocked, Dad thought it was only 3 o’clock, but I knew it was 4 so it must be you,” Destiny said after the Wag-and Sniff. She’s a very polite and sweet little white Maltese and so mellow I never would have guessed her former life had been so awful.
“To tell you the truth, Mr. Bonzo,” she said, hopping onto her Dad’s footstool and curling into a comfy ball, “I really don’t remember much. Mom and Dad tell me they rescued me from a dog pound, where I had been left by those dreadful puppy mill people. Before that, I was sort of pre-rescued by nice humans from Little Dog Rescue in Winter Haven.
“What happened was, for almost 17 years, Mom and Dad had a dog they totally loved, and lost – Lady Pollianna of Stratford – a yellow lab. About a year after Polly went to Dog Heaven, they still missed her a lot, but Mom was ready to find another dog – this time a little dog – so she started surfing Little Dog Rescue websites and found my picture and profile.”
“Wow, you can find anything on line,” I remarked. “So then what?”
“Well, Dad was still really sad and he positively, absolutely did NOT want another dog, and he especially didn’t want a little mop dog like me. But Mom already knew I was The One so she Made Arrangements and they both came and got me. I bonded with Mom right away, but Dad pretty much ignored me for about three months. It wasn’t easy (he was in the military) but I gave him the “Big Sad Eyes Look” every chance I got, and finally my adorable-ness won him over. He picked me up and told me he knew it wasn’t my fault I wasn’t a big dog like Polly, and now I’m Daddy’s Girl. I follow him all over the place and give him lots of kisses.”
“What do you do during the day?” I asked her.
“I actually like to nap a lot. I may not look it but I’m between 12 and 13 years old.”
“You’re KIDDING,” I said. “You sure don’t look it.”
She shook her head so her fluffy white bangs fell over her eyes. “I have lots of energy. Dad says I act like a puppy when I’m excited. Sometimes, I get this URGE. I go into the bathroom and pull the toilet paper off the roll – carefully so it doesn’t tear – then I go running around the house with the toilet paper banner flying out behind me. It’s just SO FUN! Ya know?”
“I do,” I said, remembering my puppyhood.
“I don’t know about you, Mr. Bonzo,” Destiny continued, standing up to stretch, then settling back down, “but I would prefer Mom and Dad to never go away without me. They say they have to sometimes, but I’m not so sure. When dad gets his keys and puts on his sunglasses, I know they’re going out. I jump around like crazy so they’ll take me along. They usually do but, when Dad says ‘Guard the House!’ I know I’m not going. Anyway, when they leave, I like to go into the bedroom, where they keep their slipper stash, and hide a few of them all over the house. Then, when Mom and Dad get home, they get to go looking for them. It’s subtle, but I think they get the point, don’t you?”
“Yep, I expect they do,” I replied, trying not to smile too much.
“But I’m not complaining because I get to go lots of places with them, in the car. They got this wonderful special booster seat for me. Come on, I’ll show you.”
She trotted out to the garage. I’d never seen anything like it. It was a sort of boxy foam chair, right there on the backseat, so she could sit in it and still see out. It had fluffy sheepskin lining, a nice plaid cover and even a soft sheepskin chin rest.
“Look, Mr. Bonzo, I have this special vest with loops and I sit in my seat and the loops buckle to the back, and that attaches to the seat belt so I’m all safe. I ever have a special fold-up water dish.”
“That is SWEET!” I said. “Do you have any dog buddies?”
“Not really. I’m sort of a loner, except for my family. I say hi to neighborhood dogs on walks with Dad, but otherwise, I’m just happy snoozing at home.”
“Well, you sure can’t beat that,” I said, as I prepared to leave.
On the way home, I wondered if those cool dog booster seats came in my size.