I’m babysitting Max, the Rottweiler, who’s been very depressed since his father’s been away on business.
Noel called, to ask if I’d go get him at The Waggy Tail…Pet Motel.
Joan of Bark, reporting for duty, ran like Jesse Owens to the rescue.
When I got there, he was at the indoor playground where all the dogs who board, or are left for the day, mingle in a pack.
Breeds of all kinds were running, barking, playing, peeing casually, while a worker chased them with a mop.
I spot Max all by himself, moping in a corner, his big seal eyes downcast, sad…hopeless.
I knock on the window, and a Cocker Spaniel comes running over. “No, no, not you,” I holler, pointing at Max, “him.”
As if he understood, Rocker Cocker runs over to Max nuzzling him, making him finally look up.
A kid then comes, bringing Max out.
“He won’t eat, he won’t play, he’s got no friends,” he says, handing me his leash.
“He does too. I’m his friend,” I say, like his lawyer, “and he just misses his dad.”
I sign him out like it’s a snooty English boarding school, and head for home, but before that, I do what I’d want under the same circumstances…stop to give him a nice long hug.
“Maxie, don’t worry,” I say, “the first thing we’re doing when we get home, is call dad.”
Well Joan did one better, we Facetimed him, and I kid you not, when he saw Noel on the screen and heard his voice, Max became a whole new dog.
I then took a can of Taste of the Wild, Bison Stew, stashed from the last time he visited, poured it in a bowl, and watched him eat for the first time in two days.
Humanity… it can come in many shapes, sizes and paws.
SB
Susannah, Max’s human must be mighty special. Luckily, so are you.
A feral cat appeared almost two months ago. His front right leg was horribly broken and badly healed. He was emaciated since it was impossible to catch a mouse. He now eats 9 Lives, Cat Chow, and table scraps. I’m finally able to pet him while he’s eating. My goal is to get the Seresto collar ($50) on him and get him to stay in our breezeway at night with a space heater. I can’t bring him in the house or he’ll pee all over marking his space. Fuzzy Face wouldn’t like it either.
You and I know that all animals, even the wild, are just little babies.
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Oh yeah, his name is Gimpy. Also known as Boo-Boo Kitty.
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Great names.
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I LOVE THIS STORY. IT RIVALS AN AESOP’S FABLE.
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Joan to the rescue! Big-hearted to the max!
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Good pun. It’s hard to max out with Max who is now home with his dad. Woof!
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You’re good with cats, too. Marvelous!
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My real love are turtles. They’re very private always popping in their shells. I can relate. 🙂
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LOL!
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Maybe next time Noel will forego the Waggy Tail and call you directly. Max will be happier, for sure!
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I’ll suggest he put me on speed dial. 🙂
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Would be a smart thing 😉
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Aw, poor Max! At least until you came to the rescue. So glad the FaceTime worked.
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Dogs are smart, and that’s all it took…a dose of dad. It was pretty funny too, the way Noel talked to him, like a son having a hard time at school.
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I have always said we require few things in life beyond love, companionship and food. Beds are extremely useful, along with sofas to sleep upon, and of course the obligatory head and neck scratches. Max has a good companion in you, thank you.
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I hated to see him go, and told his dad, next time, just bring him here. He’s the size of my sofa, but…that’s okay. He’s the sweetest, gives you no trouble and smells good. He takes after his father. 🙂
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You done good. Poor Max.
When my brother retired from his guv’mint job, he got another job to supplement his pension — working at a doggy day care business. He loved it. His “work” was playing with dogs.
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With the exception of mop detail, I get it. It’s like being a canine coach, playing catch, slapping their rears…hey, nothing like a hiney rub to get a doggie to like you. I wish Max wasn’t so serious. Maybe he’s a Capricorn. Must ask his father.
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Aah, what a pleasant interlude, gives one Pause to think of doing good for everyone, yes? Max might begin dreaming of Noel leading him happily to your door. Love the tale! Woof Woof.
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Yes, take paws to step up for another.
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Great story, Susannah. Anyone who doesn’t believe animals miss their loved ones should read this. Well done.
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Did you read it to Twiggy? I was hoping. 🙂
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To both Lucy and Twiggy and they said you were a saint.
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That’s what I was hoping for, some unanimous, waggy approval. 🙂
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You got it. Might be time to run for animal President. I think you would be a shoo in.
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I could hand out commemorative biscuits. 🙂
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And bandanas of honor
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Alpo will endorse me.
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As will Purina
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I’m making notes.
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Prepare that acceptance speech.
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Good idea. And I’d like to thank, Max, and Lucy, and Twiggy, to name a few…:)
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Of the doggies, by the doggies, for the doggies.
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shall not perish, from the Park…:)
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😊
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Paws for thought? Good piece Susannah.
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Make sure you read it to Lola and Smudge. A bedtime story perhaps? 🙂
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Did Maeve (and you) get my card???
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No, sorry, I don’t think we’ve seen anything recently. When did you post?
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Maybe it’s lost. sigh
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Sorry to hear that. We’re flattered that you thought of us, just the same. 🙂
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Well, maybe it will still get there. You always get what I send, and vice versa.
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Is “what I don’t get” published? I found it but it’s misbehaving cyberwise.
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Is it better now? I fixed it. I hope.
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All good now.
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WordPress I’d like to put a contract out on, has a new editor that’s a pain in the ass. If it’s not broken, why fucking fix it, is my eternal motto. sigh Good morning England. Regards to the Missus, and I have faith, that card will still come.
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Rots are so sweet, and Max is the perfect name for him.
I think dogs were people once, and this is their second time around.
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I totally agree. I know a few that could, and should, since it would be an improvement, run for office.
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Isn’t there a dog who is mayor somewhere? I thought I read about that a while back.
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I would love that. How funny.
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Why am I not living there?
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You could move. 🙂
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I do. In my head. Every day in fact.
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Hey, it’s what reading’s all about. You get to travel without packin’ a suitcase. 🙂
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It makes for some great stuff.
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Rotties can be so very sweet as this guy looks.
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That face.
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That poor dog. That was nice of you to Facetime his owner though to cheer him up a bit. I would think depression would be just as hard for animals especially because they probably don’t have a lot of perspective on it. I love watching videos of dogs that meet their owners after being away a long time. Sometimes they don’t even recognize them until they smell them and then they just go crazy jumping around, tail wagging like a wind turbine. This is one of my favorites: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-VosRQT0do
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I told Max’s dad, next time, just bring him to me. It’s kinda like having a man around the house, in a dog suit, because he’s so dapper and debonair, even when he eats. I half expect him to ask me for a cloth napkin. 🙂 Thanks for the film. 🙂
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