an accounting of love

It was a late September afternoon and Gerald was driving down a country road that took him through vineyards. Due to works on the main road, the traffic had been diverted.

His work took him all over the valley and today he had spent a good portion of his day behind the wheel. Below, between two rows of vines, something reddish-brown caught his eye. Gerald slowed the car to a stop.

Hesitantly, a tiny animal headed toward Gerald’s car. Gerald opened the door and stepped out onto the dirt shoulder. The little animal kept moving forward, its head tilted at an odd angle. As the creature drew closer, Gerald wondered how the animal could stand, let alone walk; It was nothing more than fur, skin and bones.

Gerald knelt down, holding still, until the little dog took a few more hesitant steps, then, as if in surrender, the little fur boy collapsed at Gerald’s feet. He looked so frail that Gerald hesitated to touch him. It was when the red dog raised his head to look at Gerald that Gerald lost all careful inhibition in him.

One of the young dog’s eyes was totally destroyed. From his pale eye, the little dog studied him. He looked so sad that he nearly broke Gerald’s heart.

With misty eyes, Gerald gently lifted the fur boy up. “How did you get this far?” he muttered to himself before placing the little boy in the passenger seat of his car.

He drove to the vet he used for his senior Airedale Terrier, Chauncey. The vet, examining the dog, said, “He must be in a lot of pain with that ruined eye. The injury has been left untreated too long.”

The vet looked at Gerald, “I’ll do my best to make him okay.”

Gerald nodded and left the office.

~*~

Three days later, Gerald brought the furry patient home. He was wearing an electronic collar to keep him from scratching the stitches that kept his eyelids closed. The infected and damaged eye had been removed.

Gerald held the little boy; caressing him tenderly. The twinkle in the dog’s remaining eye and his expression of grateful joy touched something deep in Gerald’s soul. He decided to stay with him, but he needed to see how his older dog would get along with the newcomer.

It turned out that the older dog had nothing to do with the little red dog and there were a couple of episodes where Airedale had physically threatened him. Gerald and his wife were devastated: they had both grown to love their little warrior.

So Gerald called the lady who runs a no-kill shelter in the next county and asked if she could take a one-eyed little dog with a big heart. She agreed immediately after Gerald explained her circumstances. She added that she would like to come every other Friday to pick up the dog and bring it home for weekend visits. It was Gerald’s hope that his Airedale would change her mind and grow up to accept the dog as a friend.

~*~

One week, Gerald got a call from the lady at the no-kill shelter, saying it looked like his little rescue had found a forever home. Gerald knew there might come a time when the dog, whom he had never given a name for fear of becoming too attached, would be noticed by a loving human being and brought home.

Gerald’s insides twisted painfully, this was the weekend he was going to pick up the furry boy to try again at Gerald’s house.

“Can I go see him, one last time?” he said.

“Of course!”

In half an hour he was in the shelter. The lady was waiting for him, the puppy in her arms. She handed it to him and the dog’s tail lashed furiously as Gerald held him lovingly. Then the hairy guy showered Gerald with kisses.

Gerald hugged him tightly and whispered words of endearment. He walked to a side yard so he could be alone with the now healthy ball of fur whose life he had saved. But, in saving her life, she had lost her heart to the brave little warrior with a great loving spirit.

Before leaving, the lady assured him that the red dog was headed to a loving home. He nodded, thanked her, and walked away from her.

The lady found it difficult to tell him about the new home the dog was headed to. Hard to talk to a man whose heart was breaking. Hard not to cry when he looked into her tear filled eyes.

Later that afternoon, a woman came to pick up her new family member. She had been told the story of the puppy. And, after arriving at the shelter, the lady told him about the man’s last visit.

In his medical files, Gerald had left a letter describing how he had come to know and love the little dog. Included in the letter was his phone number.

That night, with the phone slung over his shoulder, he told Gerald all about the red dog’s new home. She told him that she had named the furry boy, Furgus…

… And Gerald smiled.

~**~**~
Copyright 2006 Kathy Pippig Harris