Desstry Little Wolf

              Desstry Little Wolf-A Tribute

                                                                  Part One

  While walking through the well traveled rows of my garden one day, many thoughts came to mind.  A few for example:  “Why do I have to be disabled?  Why does there have to be so much pain all the time?  So many things to do, so little woman power left to do them with.  How do I keep going in this condition?  What about…..THE WEEDS?”  The last question to myself this day was, “Why does the neighbor’s pup keep running up to me every time she sees me in the garden?”

  After a few times of too many crushed tenderlings, I then found it quite necessary to knock on my neighbor’s door to ask him to please contain his pup because of my trampled produce.  He complied and I had no more trouble for about a month.  But soon this “problem pup” became a much larger concern than I could have anticipated after all.

  The one thing I did know,  this neighbor was three months behind in rent, with the sheriff’s department soon on their heels to serve an eviction notice.  This neighbor “flew-by-night” and I informed my husband of my suspicions that they would do so since I had some experience in apartment management in past years.  What I couldn’t believe though, was the cold awakening to the horror of finding their poor pup chained to the front porch, no food, water or shelter.  She’d been left this way for days!  Inside the abandoned residence was left a note on the dining room table that read:  “Please take my dog Wolf to the pound.”  The vacating neighbor knew I would find his note as I kept an eye on this rental property, and my husband did repairs there as well.  In addition to feeling animosity toward this so-called neighbor, my fury raged at the sight of this animal being abandoned.  She was shrunken and shaky, scared and lonely.  How could man abandon his best friend?  I also scoffed at the mindset of one who would call a female Cur hound-shepherd mix, Wolf!  This poor beast’s entire existence of approximately four months, had been at the end of a 6′ chain.  By other indications and from what the other neighbors told me, this dog’s meals consisted of one hot dog thrown out on the ground, and one pork chop. That, for about a week’s worth of food!

  Crazy is as crazy does, I went crazy within, maybe crazy on the outside too because I’m sure the neighbors must have seen me trudging over there twice daily with food and water in my arms, calling to something they could not see.  The grass in our pasture was high, we had no horse to munch it down then, and this pup was so timid she would just hide.  There is one thing about me which has never changed since childhood, and this is my absolute love for animals.  I can get “plumb” sick over them; have cried buckets of tears over ones dearly departed, and this kind of love and emotion will definitely follow me to my grave.  

  The twice daily trudging through my pasture lasted two months.  In between this time I placed an ad in our local newspaper in hopes of finding a home for this deserted stray.  (She was definitely a stray in her own right as she was dumped off at the corner of our road as tiny pup before becoming adopted by my “illustrious neighbor”).  Deserted stray became Desstry.  I added another S to her name so it would contain seven letters for her good luck.  Also, I remembered an old Audie Murphy movie titled “Destry” and thought it a good name for this dog.  So Desstry it was and how she would gloriously answer to it every time she was called, made me feel I had named her in kind.  My frustration came in the form of her not being adopted after the first ad had been placed.  The neighboring landlord felt the same way I did about taking animals to the “shelter”.  He began to help me with food costs.  He also said he would pay to have her spayed if I could find a new home for her.  Two ads later, still no luck.

  Soon neighbors could not only hear my whistling for Desstry, but now they heard her name.  They saw me teaching Desstry tricks.  “Dess” quickly learned to sit before meals were served-and to not take one bite until she was told she could.  She could not jump on people either.  She learned to shake hands and to stay in her yard when it came time for me to go home to mine.  She remained right around the immediate area, never trying to run toward any of the surrounding roads.  The one trick I had a problem in teaching her to do was to fetch a stick.  This just didn’t seem to interest her one bit.  I found this very curious as Desstry was obviously one-half German Shepherd and they are fetching fools, or perhaps it is only the full blooded ones?  Anyway, my ignorance of the breed.  (I’m sure there will be trainers out there who will say, any trick can be taught to any dog.  OK, you win, so what, but Dess would not respond.  I don’t claim to be a dog trainer anyway.)  Desstry did have the beautiful and distinctive bat wing on top of her head, which was a golden-tan color, matching the same coloring on her chest and paws.  I found her to be a beautiful dog.  And here is where I can only surmise the name Wolf may have come from, Desstry had yellow eyes!

  In those two months of feeding, grooming and schooling, Desstry began to fill out.  She showed definite signs of personality, intelligence and yes, soul.  She was also growing much more with good nutrition and love, soon becoming a handful of a dog.  In those two months, a bond I’d never before experienced in all my years of dog ownership transpired between Desstry and me.  The love had come full circle with my knowlege that animals untimately choose those they want for masters.  In this case, a mistress with too tender a heart.

  Seeing what was occurring on his still vacant property, my neighboring landlord decided to throw in a large Dogloo (an igloo-shaped dog house), along with the spaying costs.  This sure did sweeten the deal.  (Now if you’re thinking that I somehow psychologically twisted myself into negating all callers for my ad placed, I DID NOT!  My attempt in finding a home for this dog was purely sincere.  I already had a dog and a cat at home to feed and care for and didn’t need one more pet!  However, in three ads placed I only received two responses and neither seemed to offer decent-to-good conditions for being dog owners, I screen!)

  Like icing goes on a cake, the sweetest icing I’ve ever tasted was the day when feeding, grooming and schooling came to end with me needing to go home and start supper.  The fetch trick wasn’t being learned at this session either.  I turned to Desstry and said, “Stay now Dess, it’s time for me to go to my house.”  With head lowered, she began to walk back to her side of the land.  I, with head hung, slowly plodded back to mine.  I don’t know what it was that made me turn around, maybe the child in me was needing one more last look.  Upon turning around to get that look, the poor little thing had found a stick on the ground, picked it up in her mouth and was heading to her territory to spend a lonely night.  That’s all it took for me to know THIS DOG WAS MINE!  She had already chosen me!  She knew it, I knew it, and what ensued after this day, I also knew would be a battle.  There was a husband back at the house who served as Resident Troll when it came to bringing any more pets home!

  Well, stubborn is as stubborn does, I boldly brought Desstry over that line of demarcation, and into our yard.  I set up the dog house, bought a 25′ chain, put out plenty of fresh water and lots of food to accompany, and filled her house with clean straw.  She also had her own “banky”, more commonly known as blanket.  The “union” between she and my husband did not go well, but I continued to fight tooth and nail for this dog, even declaring, “She goes, I go!”  For one horrible year, Desstry remained outside and through all kinds of weather.  When “Resident Troll” wasn’t home, I brought Dess inside to visit with me, Little T-my cat, and ‘Possum Marie- my very naughty little dog, who entirely possessed a Napoleon Complex!  No big commotion transpired, no harm done.  More and more, I brought Desstry in for visits until she learned the hang of things around here, especially in terms of housebreaking.  Dess was by now, a full fledged house dog.  Somehow, the husband lost out with this one.  He didn’t concede to liking it; he just knew how hard it is to get through to a Portuguese-Welsh woman when she is set in her ways about something she believes is right.

  Desstry was always gentle and loving with my grandchildren, who sat on her back ever since they were in diapers.  When she’d had enough, she simply stood up and off they’d go, never hurting nary a one of them.  They were always instructed, since the the time they could understand, “never be mean to our doggy.”

  With my spine being the way it is, there were many times I needed assistance in getting out of bed.  One request to Desstry, “Dess, I need help!”, brought her happily sauntering into my room and right up beside the bed.  She would bear her front feet down as I pulled on her collar to get up.  She never budged under the strain of my weight being more than her own.  She waited until I was in full upright position.  A sweet high-pitched voice of praise from me was all that was required for her to have complete happiness.  When it was time for her to go outside for potty business, I’d say, “Take my hand Dess”, at which she would promptly enclose her mouth over my hand and would lead me to the door.  She also opened the door-when ajar- every time I asked her for help when my arms would be heavily laden with groceries.  Since that one and only stick fetching incident though, Dess has never fetched anything again.  If this would be her one and only flaw, so be it.  I wouldn’t give a hoot if she ever fetched anything again.

  Desstry earned her keep many times over by loving me the way she did.  She was my constant companion and I somehow felt, my protector.  I’ll never own another dog of such rare quality.  She just seemed to appreciate being adopted by someone who ultimately and unconditionally loved her.  Just for reminder of her morbid beginnings, she came to be known as, Desstry Little Wolf.

                                                     Desstry Little Wolf

                                                          Part Two 

  Some of my articles are rewrites from a good many years ago.  In effort to get started on Triond and be prolific with my submissions, I’ve upgraded and updated.  Desstry Little Wolf has an update too.

  Dess was with us for thirteen and a half years.  I can guarantee that I waited, and probably waited longer than I should have.  She got that pleading look in her eyes.  She got to where she couldn’t hold her bladder.  She was getting ugly black tumors on many areas of her body.  She became so weak that I had to hold her up so she could get up the back steps to go inside.  Then, she became heavier and heavier, as my body could no longer bear the weight of having to then carry her 65 pound hulk of just about dead weight… up those back steps.  My aching body couldn’t take it.  Keeping her outdoors all the time was not an option as she took comfort in her cozy climate controlled nook, and she loved to lie on the cool hearth stones on a hot day.

  There came the day though…that morbid and dreaded day.  Imagine having to take your child somewhere as bad as where I had to take Dess, knowing you had the final word about someones life!  I couldn’t bear it although it had to be done, she suffered too much.

  I sat on the floor next to her, cradling her in my arms.  I’ve seen ‘em go down so fast they hit the floor with a thud.  I wasn’t going to let her head fall, I’d be the bearer of her weight just like she bore my weight for so many years as I pulled on her collar when I asked her for help.

  The shot was administered and my vet and dear friend of many years said Dessie would go into deep coma. However, I knew the feel of death.  Dess was down, she was in my arms and I stayed with her to the end.  I bawled all the way home, my only consolation was that my beloved friend of so many years, was suffering no more.  It was also comforting to be told she’d lie in rest on the beautiful grounds there, along with the families dogs and cats, a place so many of us loved for all the years we’ve gone as their patients and friends.  And with this animal clinic, there is never any billing for euthanasia. 

  The only thing I have no resolve for as yet regarding the death of this splendid animal, has been the inability of both mine and my daughter,  to tell our little girls that Desstry went to Heaven.  We told them that Dess was in a doggie nursing home.  We decided we may wait until they are in high school!  I guess some of you may not understand this and consider it folly in not letting children face the knowlege of death, but already in their little lives, they lost a beloved great grandmother and their own wonderful Rottweiler who died before her time.  For now, we just don’t want to add to this.  When they ask about Desstry, I  just softly tell them she is resting comfortably and sleeps most all of the time.  This answer seems to be good enough for them, for now.  They take comfort in knowing that Desstry still wags her tail… on a good day!

images by bing.com, this photo especially holds a very uncanny resemblence to Desstry!

 * a note to the dear friends and readers, I have articles where I will speak of the injuries I have sustained.  This is not intended as a plea for sympathy or pity.  Rather, I want to strive to be an encouragement for all those who are afflicted with something whether mental or physical, in that there is always something we can do, no matter how small.  Like with any kind of addiction, disabilities need be approached on a one day at a time basis-that is all any of us can hope for!