Published May 28, 2014 in Tulare County's Foothills Sun-Gazette
Sometimes what looks like trouble turns out to be a blessing, God sent.
I called them the Three Stooges when they arrived on my porch: three little dogs who had been running loose in the street for weeks. The shaggy one showed up one night curled up on Alfredo's empty bed. She looked hungry, so I put out a little food and water. She went back and got the other two. So then there were three: Curly, Moe and Larry.
From the beginning it was clear they were a family. They wrestled and rolled over each other like a pile of puppies, moaning and chawing in fake hostility, then collapsing into a snug three-headed ball. They chased children and bicycles in a string of three, unconscious of the community hazard they were creating, then came cavorting back, thrilled with their group accomplishment.
So then I built them a fence to keep them confined to a small plot of ground surrounding the porch. Then I became the fourth member of the family, the parent/guardian whom they challenged daily with creative breakouts, requiring additions to the fence. And though I'm sure there are those passersby who viewed my construction techniques with dismay, I was reminded of my carpenter's-daughter creativity in the process, and my relationship with the dogs grew as well.
Their original names didn't stick. Curly became Maggie Muppet, Moe became Mollie Moe, and Larry turned into Jeff, for reasons I still don't understand. Right about the time their names stuck, it became clear that Maggie and Mollie were destined to become mothers in the near future. I had a nightmare about it: puppies crawling all over the front yard and out under the wheels of cars. When I mentioned this to our vet Jamie Wilson one evening when I went in for tick information, she said "Bring them in - tomorrow." The world was saved from 15 additional dogs nobody wants by the grace of Lindsay Vet Clinic. That Lindsay has such a clinic is a godsend itself.
I contacted the Central Valley Rescue Railroad (another Lindsay godsend) to see about getting help finding homes for them. At first they couldn't imagine accepting them as a family, and I couldn't imagine breaking them up, so I examined my reluctance and found that I was showered with love and kisses every night when I came home from work, and that meant something. Between the dogs' antics and their growing affections, Mollie, Maggie and Jeff got me through some really tough times. Fence building and repair is so much more rewarding than fighting city hall . . . not to mention bestowing love where it's needed.
Then a big black Shar-Pei in heat showed up, drawing a string of admiring males through the neighborhood. She took a liking to Jeff, who, despite his small size, thought his talents were needed. Fearing fights with much bigger dogs, I retrieved him from her flank day and night, only to be outfoxed by hormones minutes later. I took him to Jamie for his naturalization papers, then to the CVRR's safe kennels where, still feeling his testosterone, he promptly escaped, answering love's call. Two days later, when he showed up unscathed at the porch with his black girlfriend, I felt God's hand on my heart once again.
But a baling-wire pen in the front yard of a writer is no place to spend a life. So Friday morning I took them, trio intact, to the welcoming arms of CVRR. They're now getting lessons in collars and leashes, how to behave, and how to become someone's best friend. I can attest they're genetically designed for it, smart enough to learn, and will pass on God's blessings to the next available owner. You can check out my godsends, plus a wide range of other heavenly beauties, at www.cvrr.us.
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Trudy Wischemann is an animal lover who writes about all kinds of beasts. You can send her your favorite godsend stories c/o P.O. Box 1374, Lindsay CA 93247 or leave a comment below.
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