When I first met Angelina Neal I would’ve never, in a million years, guessed her story. She came to the door with her Mom and, I woof you not, she’s a knockout! Long wavy hair the color of honey and cream, parted smack down the middle, tail to nose. Big dark eyes, long, blond lashes.”
“Mr. Bonz! It’s YOU! I’m honored!” she said, approaching for the Wag and Sniff. “I’m Angelina Neal. This is my Mom, Leslie. My little sister’s runnin’ around here somewhere. Come’on in!” And off she bounced.
“Thank you, Angelina, I can’t wait to hear your story!” I couldn’t resist adding, “You certainly have a beautiful coat. All those long curls!”
“Why, thank you. Mom thinks I’m mostly a Bearded Collie. But they ushully have sorta straight hair, so I Googled. And I think I’m part Poodle, too. Mom’s gonna have my DNA tested to find out for sure.”
“Your what?”
“My DNA. It’s a bunch of really small, twisty thingys that have, like, special instructions on how to make dogs. Humans, too. Probly even cats. Everything, ackshully. What color eyes we get, stuff like that. There’s different instructions for every breed. So maybe I’m a Beardoodle.”
“Or a Poolie,” I suggested helpfully. “So, tell me your story, Miss Angelina.”
“It was a week before Christmas 2004. My Mom (she’s a teacher) stopped at the post office in Florida City on her way to teach a class and there I was, sitting out front. I was a mess. Too weak to walk. Mom thought I was brown cuz my coat was so dirty and matted. A coupla humans had felt sorry for me and bought me some Slim Jims. Mom thought that’d be bad for my tummy, so she asked them if I was their dog. I wasn’t. She asked whether they could take me to a vet or something, but they couldn’t.
“Mom had to get to class so she started to drive off. But she looked back and saw me still sitting there looking lost and sick. So she came back for me and got a friend to watch me ’til she got back from class. To tell you the truth, Mr. Bonz, me and Mom both thought I probly wouldn’t make it ’til she got back. But I did. Just barely.
“Mom cleaned me up and gave me a trim and found out I hadn’t gone through the No Puppies Program. Her vet took pictures of my insides and found out I still had puppies in me and some kind of big stone, too, and said I needed an operation right away. I made it through, but my puppies didn’t.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. I think it was for the best. When I was recovering at the vet’s, Mom came to see me and I talked, and talked and talked to her. Dog, was she happy! I was, too. I felt safe. Before that, I thought humans didn’t even LIKE dogs.
“Later, when I was getting my teeth cleaned, the doctor found a bad disease in my mouth. I hadda go to a dog cancer doctor. I got radiation and other medicine to ‘boost my immune system,’ Mom says. That’s like I have a tiny little army inside me fighting bad stuff. Mom calls me her Miracle Dog.
“And, GUESS WHAT? Mom always thought I was laid back, but I’m NOT. I was just really sick when she met me. She found out I’m Bouncy. And I LOVE Digging and Jumping. I go on lots of walks in the park, and … ”
Just then a little furball flew by, same pretty color as Angelina, and skidded to a stop in front of us. Well, not exactly a stop, more like a bounce-in-place, with lots of barking.
“I wondered where you’d got to,” said Angelina. “Now sit still and shush and meet The Bonz. He’s that newspaper columnist I told you about.”
The bouncing and barking were replaced by vigorous wagging. And here was this Pekingnese looking up at me.
“Mr. Bonzo, this is my goofy little sister Dalai Lana. Me and Mom rescued her a coupla years ago in Homestead. She was a Dog of the Streets, but we put her on the Right Path.”
“Pleased to meet you Miss Lana.”
“Oh, Mr. Bonzo, can I be in your story, too? I’ll be really polite and I won’t innerupt.”
“Sure!”
“Oh, boy! Hey Angie, can I puleeze tell about how we play? Puleeze?”
“Go for it,” Angelina said.
“OKAY, so, me and Angie have the BEST time playing in the park and chasing squirrels. An even though, in Homestead, we had a big field to play in, we really like our new back yard. There’s GRASS to roll in, and we come right back inside when we get pooped out. We go on lotsa walks. I stop A LOT to smell the roses, well, everything, akshully. And Angie always waits for me. Isn’t that So Nice?”
“It certainly is,” I replied. “So, how’d you get such an unusual name?”
“Mom wanted to call me something to ‘honor my heritage’ and Pekingese were bred and loved by the Dalai Lama. She wanted to be respectful, so she made my name sorta different, but sorta the same, too.”
“I’m glad we found Lana,” interjected Angelina. “See, I had a rough puppyhood, never learned how to play til we got Lana. NOW, I love to run and roll in the grass and make chirpy sounds. And I have a Toy! My Squeaky Squirrel.”
Heading home, I was thinking about how lucky Angelina and Lana and their Mom all were to have found each other. And about how beautiful Angelina’s long, wavy coat was. Sigh.
Till next time,
The Bonz