I rescued a luscious little hound Saturday, up on Corydon Pike (shades of Daisy Irene, I know). I watched as a guy cutting grass called the pup off from the road so I pulled over to the two boys to make sure all was well (yes, I've been told a million times that I should be working for Animal Control but I'm not equipped with the mentality to do so). From the passenger side window, the guy asked, "is this your puppy?" and I said, "no, but I'm the dog lady. Put him in!", and he did.
I had an idea who he belonged to and while they're nice fellas, they're blotto virtually all the time and not the most responsible folks. As I reached over to pet him (the pup, not the guy), fleas jumped from him onto me. I screeched and lunged for my truck SOS (animal and human) kit, grabbing hold of a vial of TopSpot and bam! goodbye fleas...eventually. What I really wanted was a Capstar, a pill that kills fleas within minutes but I'd used the last one in the kit on a whole-other-story-dog last month. I went round to the suspected "owners" and yes, it was their puppy. Yes, he continually went onto the Pike and into traffic. No, they didn't want him anymore
and would I please take him. Yes, I would and did.
I checked to see if he still had his testicles; he did. Then his teeth; counting them like my vet taught me I determined that he's 14 weeks old. He's just beautiful, inside and out, with loads of loose skin and long red ears (as he looks so
hound-like, Daisy Mae now thinks he's her "Mini-Me" although initially she was terrified by this 30 pound baby; it was hilarious to see Daisy Mae, an 80 pound bloodhound, tuck her tail and bolt
when I first brought her doppelganger home). I never bring animals to my Sanctuary until they're completely vetted but it was Saturday and my sainted veterinarian isn't "open" on the weekend. I took a chance and called Dr. Pepin's office; to my delight the doctor herself answered. I explained my situation and she told me if I would come right then, she'd neuter, vaccinate and chip my new charge.
It was almost 1pm and this wretched weather was creating a decidedly mostly-indoors-day (too hot even for the pool). I wondered if Dr. Barb Pepin was "in"...typically closed on Saturdays I knew reaching her was a long shot, although she does provide TWO alternate phone numbers on her clinic voice mail--what a woman. I dug around my truck (a rolling office, of sorts) and finally found my cell phone (thank you, Auntie Paulette!); I dialed Dr. Pepin's office and two rings in,guess who answers?
The beneficent Texan veterinarian herself! Told her my "plight" and her
wonderful response was, "how soon can you get here? I'm not supposed to be working today but
if you hurry over with the pup, we'll neuter and vaccinate your new baby!".I love Dr. Pepin.
And Amanda, her office manager totally has her act together. The practice is at Dr. Pepin's farm (at the highest geographic point in the knobs it has a fantastic
view) so she's always
around. She has two handsome geldings that they trail ride and they are the sweetest, super-nuzzly horses. They breathe into your ears, gently nibbling on your lobes. I wish I had a couple of horses. I love to ride but simply hanging with horses is cool.
Anyway, Doc not only neutered and inoculated Puppy but we hit him with a nasal dose of bordetella vaccination adding an extra helping of penicillin subcutaneously to combat the nasty
kennel cough that Siddy and Daisy Mae are taking forever
to get over (even though they've been on antibiotics and decongestants).
Afterward, Puppy spent the rest of the afternoon in the back seat of my truck, passed out still. However, as he began to sober up after his ketamine/acepromazine magic carpet ride, he began to howl
through his clenched mouth, still essentially passed out. It got so loud, so bad that little Norman started to "sing" along with the drunk puppy...and then Franklin
joined in. It was a trip
! I drove Percy to a friend's house where I knew he could "sleep it off" while I finished errands with my aforementioned little ones, 'Normie' and 'Frankie'. They were worn out from the drama in their truck for the past two hours. When I finally picked Percy up from my friend's, he was groggy but ready to tinkle. When I tried to get him into the truck to go home, he resisted mighty strongly...Puppy was smart enough, even in his altered state of mind, to know that the last time he did that things didn't go so great. But he finally got in and we all drove off, to his new home where he learns Dog Etiquette 101. He's smart, loving and socializes well. He'll probably weigh in ultimately around 50 pounds. BIG
Once we arrived home, he was a bit underwhelmed. He met all members of his new family but in the end he just wanted to potty and go to sleep. I gave him some ice chips and a blankie and out went the lights, all but one for in case Puppy needed to go outside. He doesn't know his way around here in the dark--yet.
Oh, allow me to provide this disclaimer: I did
go to the people who I thought "owned" (not my word) him and they were grateful
that I would take him. They weren't able to take reasonable care of him telling me, "he's going to get plastered on the Pike 'cause unless we chain him
, we can't keep him from running the streets (not neutered and no shots, scabs and scratched-raw skin from being riddled with fleas)." They couldn't even really explain how they got him. Blotto.
So in a blink of his pretty eyes, Puppy got a better life. I'll put him on my Petfinder page once we really know one another.