The Rescue (Part Two)

[If you haven't read PART ONE, please CLICK HERE. There will be a link to bring you back to part two.]

The van pulled up to a modest, cheerful house with a small front yard. The Rescuer unloaded the rest of the dogs and put them in the fenced back yard, where play broke out in riots of toy shaking, grass rolling, and boisterous games of tug and tag. As she returned to the van, her husband pulled in the driveway from work.

"So you were able to spring him?" he asked, kissing his wife hello. The two peered in the dog's crate.

"Oh my dear Lord," cried the man, clutching his mouth.

"They were going to put him down today. Apparently he hasn't eaten since he got dumped two and a half weeks ago. I hate to put him through getting a bath first thing, but I've got to do it. I have to treat those sores, and I can't stand the smell anyway. I had to ride the whole way home with the van windows open."

The Rescuer's gentle hands took him out of the crate. He felt the sunshine as he stood on the warm grass in the front yard and he started to tremble violently. His legs buckled, whether voluntarily or from weakness, he didn't know. The Rescuer sat down beside him, placed his head in her lap, and stroked him with kindness and care. His eyes started to see then. He lost the nothingness stare and he looked at the Rescuer. And his tail wagged once.

He didn't mind the bath. The water was warm and the hands were gentle, and though the sores burned like fire, he didn't flinch. He was toweled and medicated with ointment and wrapped in warm blankets. By habit, he turned away from the food. The Rescuer gently opened his mouth and put some in, and softly held his jaws closed. He swallowed. Hello! What was this? He sniffed the bowl, and then gulped the rice and hamburger and broth as fast as his jaws would let him. Was there more? The Rescuer laughed and clapped her hands in delight. He slept.

He was now better than he had ever been. The sores had long healed. His dead coat had been replaced by a shining, healthy, proud one and he was friends with the other dogs in the Rescuer's house. He had learned so many lessons. The Rescuer had taught him to sit, lie down, shake, and his favorite, roll over. When he raided treasures from trash cans, she taught him a great trick. She put a piece of Italian sausage in a trash can and put it in the middle of the kitchen. When he trotted over to retrieve it, she said a sharp, "Unh-uh!" and when he turned to look at her, she gave him a piece of the delectable sausage that she had in her pocket. Cool! They practiced this and practiced this, in every room in the house. He did love this game! And after a while, when there was something wonderful in a trash can, he would trot over to tell her and she would fish an ever-present treat out of her pocket and give it to him. And tell him what a wonderful dog he was.

When he was first well enough to realise that there were girl dogs in this house, he became the Humping King. He was delirious with Humpzeist. He thought he was Rescuebert Humperdink. He humped air, he humped pillows, he tried to hump the girl dogs.

"We will never find you a home if you live in Humpville," said the Rescuer. She had gotten his boy parts removed as soon as he was strong enough, but this did not stop him. He heard the "unh-uh" but there were no treats involved. Then she told the girl dogs, "OK ladies, let him have it," and let him in the room with them. They did not appreciate his advances. They let him know this and his nose bled and his ear. Then he thought he would bestow his love on one of the boy dogs. He did not try that again. His humping days were done, and besides, he went on such long walks, and played for so many long hours in the yard, that he was tired and forgot all about it anyway.

"Joe," the Rescuer said as she was drying him from a bath, "Your Forever Home is coming in the morning. They are good people and I have told them all about you, and I have checked them out, and I believe they are perfect for you. Nope, I know it in my bones. Perfect." She had started calling him Joe, because he was a Good Joe, and he liked it very much. "And you are ready. Yes you are. But, Joe, my heart is going to break a bit. You will take your piece of it with you. And it's an awfully big piece you own, Joey. You are such a good dog."

Joe didn't know why her eyes were leaking, but he cleaned her face and wagged his best for her.


The Rescuer.


His Rescuer.




... to be continued HERE (part three, conclusion)


hug your hounds