Have you ever been paging through your local newspaper and come across a photo of a dog who is up for adoption? Cute aren't they? You might of even started thinking about what it would be like to have a dog. Those healthy trots around the neighborhood with your new leashed buddy, those cold nights snuggling with your own personal, furry heater, boy that sure sounds great.
Before you start browsing through those Petsmart flyers in your Sunday paper, consider this simple question.... "Why are these beautiful puppies so easily available"? Why are the previous owners jetisoning their best friend"?
A year ago I spotted "Jethro", a one year old Bassett Hound, in the neighborhood section of our newspaper. Jethro had been abandoned by his previous family, leaving this poor pup in a farm house to fend for himself. Neighbors heard Jethro's plaintiff howling night after night coming from the vacant house, and, realizing that his family had fled, brought Jethro to the local shelter.
Jethro spent one week in the shelter before his photo was posted in the newspaper. That's were me and my family come in.
Owners of a Coon Hound, a Beagle Mix and a female Bassett Hound, we were among the many admirers who visited the shelter to check out this beautiful, but abused doggy. The shelter staff asked us a battery of questions and my wife filled out a questionnaire designed to weed out any freaks who might have unholy designs on poor Jethro. Prior to leaving we were told that over thirty individuals had shown interest in Jethro and it would take them a week to sort things out and call us about our claim. We left the shelter thinking that we would probably be one of the many families who missed out on Jethro, remembering that we were dog heavy with three hounds already.
The next morning we are wakened by a call from the shelter informing us that we were, in fact, the winners of the Jethro sweepstakes and that they would be dropping him off in fifteen minutes. "Why us" we thought, surely there was someplace less crowded that Jethro could go.
The shelter director arrived with Jethro, snapped a picture of us with him, and bolted out of our home like someone had set her hair on fire.
Something just didn't seem right. She dumped that pooch off like an unclaimed al-Qaeda carry-on, and shot out of the door. But why?
Over the next few weeks it became it became very apparent to us why Jethro was so easily ours. We had been hoodwinked by the humane society!
Although Jethro was a beautiful hound, he was a trouble-maker of the highest order. This dog ate EVERYTHING! In the first week he consumed
. Three pairs of white socks
. A tube of lip balm.
. A bag of milk chocolates.
. A basket of potpouri (both the basket and its contents)
. A deck of cards (My son wagered that the pup might poop an ace high straight the next morning).
. A bag of Hall's "Mentolyptus" Cough Drops.
and for dessert, an entire box of Nyquil Gel Tabs (he slept until 2pm the next day).
His previous owners must have waited until he was aleep, pulled the moving truck up the the back door and moved out in the middle of the night!
Among his other charms, Jethro likes to climb on top of people who are sleeping and tramp back and forth on their bodies, earning him the name "Dogzilla."
Unlike the people at the shelter and his fleeing former family, we have chosen not to palm Jethro off on the next warm hearted Bassett-lover who comes along, but intend to keep this goat/dog hybrid for our own. He has been re-named "Roscoe", after a minor character in the movie classic "Gone with the Wind" (All of our dogs, Ashley, Rhett, Scarlett, Tara, and Belle have named connections to my wife's favorite film. We are starting to run out of names).
Roscoe can be found in our home either sleeping or creating havoc, twenty four hours a day. My wife, son and I always have a bag packed just in case Roscoe forces another evacuation. It might be just a matter of time.
