Morgan's Doglog

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

My Life Story, Part 5

You can scroll down to my post of August 2 to see Part 4, or click July 2005 under Archives to start at the beginning.

We left our hero (me) wondering where he would end up next.

My owner, Teresa, had decided to give me away after five years so she could move to Arizona to be with her true love. She spread the word among her friends that she had a golden retriever to give away.

Of course, Teresa didn't tell me what she had in mind. When a couple showed up to take me for a walk, I just thought they were being nice. I could tell they were not very experienced dog walkers. I pulled hard on the leash to show them who was boss -- me! We walked around my neighborhood in Renton, WA, for about half an hour. Then they got back in their car and left again. It seemed odd but I didn't think much about it.

They showed up again a week or so later. This time they invited me to jump in their car. Oh boy! A car ride! Little did I know that I would never see my home again.

We drove for about a half hour and then pulled into a driveway in some other part of town. I know -- in the movies and in Jack London books the dogs can find their way home from hundreds of miles away. Well, not this dog. I got out of that car and had no clue where I was.

It was especially strange that They had brought my stuff with Them--my special toy (a masticated yellow rubber Daffy Duck), my leash, my cookie jar, and a bunch of other stuff. They invited me inside Their house and I ran around, sniffing like mad, trying to find a clue to my whereabouts. Nothing.

After about an hour, it started to dawn on me that I wasn't going home. I camped out by the front door and waited, signalling my desire to leave. Heck, I just thought I was going for a ride! I had no idea I was being kidnapped! But They did not take me home.

They seemed to be very nice people, but they weren't my owners. I missed Teresa and her roommates.

The next day I tried to escape. They let me out the front door without a leash and I took off. They started chasing me but there was no way They could catch me--in those days I could run a lot faster than They could! I might have gotten away but I happened to trot past some flowers that another dog had peed on, which of course required more detailed investigation.

I was sniffing the flowers when I felt a hand on my collar. Darn! Over the next couple of weeks I made a few more desperate bids for freedom but They caught me every time. I still suspected foul play but there was no way to get back to Teresa, my real owner.

Then one day, Teresa showed up at the house! She seemed happy to see me but I could tell she'd moved on. We still loved each other but it just wasn't the same. She had given me away to new owners and we had separate lives by then. But I was happy to know for sure that I wasn't a kidnap victim--evidently Teresa had given me up voluntarily. I later learned that one of the reasons Teresa gave me away was because she was sick. Tragically, Teresa died the following year from breast cancer at age 34.

Teresa Lassek, RIP, you will always be in my heart!

She and He were very good to me. The three of us lived happily in our house in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle. He worked at home so I had company during the day while She went to work. He took me for walks in the nearby cemetery. Walk, sniff, poop, sniff, walk, sniff, sniff, walk. That was our routine. On the weekends, She walked with us.

After I'd been with Them for a few months, I began to cough. I coughed a lot. Finally, They took me to the veterinarian. The vet took the first set of X-rays I'd ever had. That was how They discovered I'd been shot. All that birdshot is still inside me. It always amuses me to see the horrified reaction whenever a new vet takes my X-rays. "This dog has been shot!"

The vet had no idea what was wrong with me. She decided to test me for heartworm just so she could rule it out--heartworm is unheard of in the Pacific Northwest. The test came back positive! I had been harboring the nasty little worms ever since my days in North Carolina!

They sent me to a specialist who treated the heartworm by injecting me with enough arsenic to kill the worms, stopping just short of killing me. It was horrible. I got real sick. Then I had to stay absolutely quiet for six weeks. No walks, no running around, no playing, no nothing. The worms were dead but their bodies were still in my heart. If I got excited and my heart started pumping fast and churning the worm bodies around--it would have been sudden death, like a blood clot.

After six weeks of bed rest, punctuated by pee and poop trips to the back yard, I forgot the rest of the world existed! I forgot about exercise and sniffing. I was sure I would never see the world beyond my yard again.

Next installment: I recover from heartworm but develop yet another fatal disease.

3 Comments:

  • Morgan - what a story! You poor guy, you've really suffered, haven't you?

    And that was really sad about Theresa.

    I can't wait for the next exciting chapter.

    Your life would make a great movie.

    By Anonymous Jeff Meyerson, at 6:51 AM  

  • oooh.....

    By Anonymous Eleanor, at 8:16 AM  

  • wow. Tell "She" that she's missed, will you? I haven't seen her for ages!

    By Blogger Kafaleni, at 1:49 AM  

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