Tuesday, December 29, 2015

The Return

I’m getting older and have never been full of energy in the first place. I should have known better than to get a high energy dog. But I did and almost immediately regretted it. We have a fenced-in backyard and soon it was in a state of devastation. The weeping willow we had recently planted was soon only a sad broken stick stripped bare. And so I decided my high energy dog needed more exercise. When I was at home to keep an eye on him, I let Argos run free. However, the times I was not watching he chewed everything in sight--the cushions on the chairs, the chairs themselves, shoes left by the door, and, worst of all, our other outside dog Chico. Poor Chico limped after their encounters.

Our two cats and our two inside dogs cowered in terror whenever the door opened. It was a chore to put Argos back in the fenced-in area so the other animals could go out to do their business.

I didn’t want Argos to leave but when he chewed the screen off the enclosed back porch, I felt it would be for the best. I didn’t go outside when the man came to drive him away to his new home, about ten miles from where we live.

Chico missed him, regardless of his battle scars, and I did too. We repaired the screened-in back porch and life went on. I tucked my dog's memory away into a far corner of my mind. Months passed. One day, out of the blue, worry about Argos filled my thoughts. Was he happy and healthy? I kept my concerns to myself.

The next day, my husband Carl and I met and had lunch at a local restaurant. For some reason, Carl decided to drive down an unfamiliar road to me. To my surprise, he told me the man we had given Argos to lived on that road. I expressed my concerns about the dog’s welfare. Carl didn’t know the exact location. However the man had described his farm--fenced in with cows. We found a place but no sign of the man or Argos. Carl dropped me off at the church where I finished putting up a bulletin board. He went back to work.

I headed home and pulled into the drive. A dog with ribs showing was in our front yard--a very familiar looking dog. I stopped and let down the car’s window. The dog loped to me and put his big head through my window to give me a kiss.

It was Argos. He gulped down the food and water I gave him, and I called Carl to tell him the news, that Argos had crossed ten miles of back roads and fields to find his way home.

We got our prodigal dog a doghouse and bought him a thick cushiony pillow to go in it.

The next morning the shredded pillow’s insides blew in the wind. The screened-in back porch was back in a state of disrepair.

Some things never change. :)

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  1. And yet, they steal our hearts. Our little puppy isn't a saint either, but we love him. Maybe Argo will mellow out a bit and peace will reign once more. :)


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