First off: I hope all you fellow pets an your humans are safe and dry. Me an my peeps are, Thank Lassie.
This week I’m writin’ about Sweetie Clark, a very pretty gray Lab mixture who is not only a rescue-EE, but also a Rescue-ER.
Sweetie an her Mama, Stacey, lived on a real pretty street over here on the island (ackshully right by my OFF-ice) in a NAY-ber-hood called Bethel Creek. But it’s not pretty anymore.
Me an my assistant hadda drive real slow cuz all those big oaks an PAHM TREES an most of the ackshull HOUSES got destroyed by what’s called a tore-NAY-do, which is a twirly wind sorta like a HURRY-cane but smaller an super dangerous.
Anyway, there were HUGE piles of trees an stuff on both sides of the Sweetie’s street, so the open part was real narrow. Sweetie’s house was mostly inna pile, no roof (it was in the yard next door).
Onna big board that Sweetie said used to be a wall, somebody’d put a big OK in orange spray paint, which means, I found out, that there’s nobody trapped an/or hurt inside.
Sweetie was onna leash in the front yard, with a lady. “Hello, Mr. Bonzo. I’m Sweetie Clark! This is my Mamma Stacey. We’ll go to the back. There’s a tree that didn’t fall down we can sit under.
Watch where you walk.”
We stepped carefully over an around boards an branches an wires (“They’re dead,” Sweetie assured us.) I’d never ever seen anything like it.
My assistant retrieved some duhlischus nacks from The Satchel; Sweetie happily slurped them up, then began her tail.
“Mamma got me at the Humane Society in twenny-twenny-two. She wanted an older pooch so the humane society humans showed her several possibilities an she picked me, even though I was really skinny, an pity-full, totally stressed and scared to pieces of doors.”
“Doors?” I blurted.
“Yep. I was a mess. But Mama knew I was Her Dog. She took me to the vet, explained she’d just ’dopted an older dog, an asked him to check me out. So he did. Then he laffed, an Mama was like, why is he laffing? He said, ‘This is not an old dog. She’s a puppy!’
“I guess I seemed old cuz I was so skinny an wobbly an stuff. Ackshully, I’m only about 3 or 3 anna haff. But, Mr. Bonzo, Mom probly wouldn’t have adopted me if she’d known I was a pupper.
It was Meant to Be, doncha think?”
“Absolutely,” I agreed. “So, tell me about the tornado, I can’t even imagine.”
“OK, so Mamma was at the sink, by the big kitchen window. I was just sitting next to her, chillin’.
THEN, alluva sudden (it was SO strange, Mr. Bonzo) I jumped, I mean I kinda lurched really hard, like BOOM, then I want flyin’ into the closet, where I usually go to relax or snooze.
“My ears popped an everything felt Not Right. I knew something was about to happen. Mamma didn’t know what was wrong with me so she hurried to the closet to be sure I was OK. (She had her Ear Buds in, so I guess she didn’t hear anything.) She knelt down to give me liddle pats and reassure me an then – the roof blew off and the walls fell in.
“Mamma says the next thing she remembers is somehow being on the other side of the room with her back against the part of the wall that was still there. Outside my closet, the wind was so strong, an all kinda stuff (Mama calls it duh-BREE) was flyin’ around. She curled up inna ball an covered her head an kept saying ‘I don’t wanna die’ over an over. I stayed in the closet and didn’t move a muscle.
“Then, Momma says, something called uh-DRENNA-lin kicked in (I have no idea what that means) but it helped her crawl out. The hallway had clapsed but she finally squeezed through the, um, duh-BREE, an into the yard.
“Then she ree-lized I was still inside an she was SUPER scared an started yellin’ for me. Soon as I heard her, I wiggled my way out the same way Mama did but then, for some reason, I started just runnin’ and runnin’ around an couldn’t stop. I think maybe it was that stuff that helped Momma get out. It felt weird.
“Finally I stopped and went to Momma and she cuddled me and said I was her Hero cuz if she hadn’t followed me to the closet, she wudda been smished by the roof an the walls.
“Then a buncha of NAY-bers came over to help us. Lotsa their houses had also been destroyed, but, Mr. Bonzo, I was so proud of ’em cuz they were right there helpin’ us. Lemme see, there was Fin an his fren; an Carey; an Andre. Andre rescued Mamma’s cellphone (an you know how important THAT is to humans!).”
I nodded. “Woof, do I ever!”
“An THEN,” she continued, “all these other humans came to help us: I found out they’re called First ruh-sponders: they were, lemme think, fire people, a pair of medics I think, um, an puh-leece.
“My human sister, Shae, lives about 10 miles away and her neighborhood got hit by three same tore-NAY-do but not her house, Thank Lassie. She couldn’t get to us the front way cuz the streets were closed. So she an her huz-bun went the back way, along the sea walls and back yards. They all came to our rescue, Mr. Bonzo, isn’t that SO TOTALLY COOL KIBBLES?”
I was almost speechless. I’d never heard anything like it. “Where are you stayin’ now, Miss Sweetie?”
“Mamma’s frens from her office are lettin’ us stay with them over on the, umm, MAIN-land, which is SO nice!”
As we (carefully) headed home, I was thinkin’ how if Miss Sweetie hadn’t been mistaken for an older pooch, she wouldn’t have been there to save her Mamma. An how everyone came together to help each other, an how, during very, very hard times like this, disgreemutts are set aside.
Sigh.
