Jack’s blog post is on time for a change
I’ve had many dogs over the years, but Bert is the only dog that chose clearly and exclusively me as his human.
He chose me by licking my hand. We’d lost a dog and put up signs offering a reward for his return, and someone called. “I think I have your dog.” It wasn’t him, but Bert looked a lot like our missing Rabbie. The guy who’d found him, a dog lover, sensed he was onto a good thing here. He gave me a $10 and said, “Would you mind taking him to the pound? Here’s the entrance fee. I can’t keep him; I have seven dogs.” Bert looked at me from his one good eye, and licked my hand.
That was it. He came home with me.
The vet said he had only one eye because he’d met “Something meaner than he was” at a young age, and we discovered he also had serious heart-worm infestation, which required much rest after the debilitating treatment.
But he wasn’t having any of that rest nonsense because he had his best buddy Zora, our other rescue, to chase around with in the back yard. Saint Beth’s (our vet’s) staff even said “Good luck” as they told us to try and have him rest.
Zora taught him all her favorite tricks and feints as they raced around but they had another shared habit. They loved escaping out the front door when someone inadvertently left it open just too long. They’d be off and out and up the street!
Usually Bert was recaptured first, but on one famous occasion he couldn’t be seen. Eventually Wendy found him wandering nonchalantly down the middle of the main street with an enormous coal truck right behind matching his pace. The driver must have been a dog lover to do that five miles per hour thing.
His exploits were legendary and he made many, many good friends among our regulars in the bookstore. Long suffering with kids and always willing to guide folk to the best books.
Just over a year ago Zora headed over the rainbow bridge and Bert never really got over that. We think he was always waiting for her to come back and he went from an outdoor dog to an indoor one. As he developed his own health issues he found another friend. Tooth is a kitten that was dumped over our yard fence while we were in Scotland two years ago and when she saw Bert she immediately assumed the role of nurse and companion. She led him around, pointed him to his food as his eyesight failed and made sure he knew where he should be in the back yard, then leading him back.
It’s so hard to know the point between keeping them for you and letting them go as the kindest thing for them.
But we picture Bert, gazing into the mists at the bridge, and saying, “Zora, ZORA, is that really you?”
I’m not gonna say I’m stressed. No, I choose this life of writing and cat rescue and advocacy for Appalachia. When the writing leads to a whirlwind schedule of book promotion, this is definitely a first world problem. No complaints. When the cat rescue is super-busy with special opportunities to make a difference, that’s what we’re there for. When Appalachia takes center stage in a national debate, step up to the plate and swing hard.
Wendy Welch: Books, Yarn, Cats, Opioids 