Two years ago I was bitten on the leg by a rescue dog that a friend of mine had adopted and was working very hard at fostering, loving and rehabilitating. She was a beautiful dog and very bright but she had learned some very bad habits in her other homes and as a result was unpredictable and she perceived me as some kind of threat and jumped up and before I knew it she had bitten me. It wasn't a horrible bite, it was just a laceration but it bled pretty good. Lucky for me she had all her shots and I didn't have to have any trips to the plastic surgeon. But it left a lasting mark on my right leg and an even stronger lasting mark on my mind.
So when I went looking for a couple of weeks ago I decided it had to be a puppy and not a full grown dog. After all, we have kids, we have other animals and everyone has a different idea on how to treat animals. (I don't think I need to name names, you know who you are). And let me tell you, there are not a lot of mutt puppies roaming around the country. You have to really look.
Enter Swamp People and their compound of dogs and dogs and dogs. I'm not sure if these people were backyard breeders or what they were doing with all these dogs but once I had seen this puppy I could not get her out of my mind. I kept thinking about the tiny pen she was kept in with her brother and sister and how much filth they were standing in when I went to see her. And I kept thinking about all the dogs chained around the yard and why Animal Planet hasn't send someone to their house to rescue these dogs like those Animal Cops people. And I felt like if she stayed there she would either become a fighting dog or a breeding dog and have very little to eat and no Veterinary care. (and I happen to know a good Vet).
And so I slept on it and then I called the Swamp Man back and went and picked up our puppy. And I would say that she is learning to fit right in. Later I will tell the story of how my dream of having a dog named Yoko Ono was dashed in a democratic process of names being drawn out of a hat that resulted in the title of this blog.
Sleep tight Marcko Polo.