I'm a full-time writer for the State University of New York at Rockland and the author of four books. You are welcome to publish, at no charge, the following true story about how a big, homeless dog found his way into our family, which included a disabled child. You can publish it in your magazine, newsletter, website, blog, etc. I continue to own all rights and ask that you include my Web site at the end.
"Two Dogs and a Shelter"
by
Lisa Saunders
(700 Words)
"Mom, can I have a dog? I promise I'll take care of it,” my 12-year-old daughter, Jackie, asked yet again on New Year’s Eve of 2000.
I cringed. After all these years, why couldn’t she take “no” as the final answer? Not only did I know who really ends up walking it in the pouring rain, but we also had a daughter, Elizabeth, who was quadriplegic from cerebral palsy (I caught cytomegalovirus during my pregnancy). She was unable to protect herself against a frisky animal like the cat we briefly owned that clawed her face.
Instead of arguing with Jackie again about why she couldn’t have a dog, I just reiterated the promise I had made to her six years earlier: “If God Himself brings a dog our door, then you can have it because I'll assume it’s a sign that it will be gentle around your sister." Jackie and my husband, Jim, decided that if that day should ever come, they would name the dog Riley after the dog in the movie, "Homeward Bound II.”
Unbelievably, a few weeks after that New Year’s Eve, a big, brown female puppy, shivering cold, wet and dirty, tried to jump into our car as we were leaving to go out with friends.
Stunned, I knew Jim and I had to honor our pledge. But first, I ran "found" ads, put up posters, and called the police. Reporting her to our local animal shelter, Donald, the Assistant Director, said that an overwhelmed owner had probably dumped her.
Jackie wouldn't name the puppy Riley because she only knew male dogs named Riley, so she called her Gabrielle-Gabby for short.
Now I was the overwhelmed owner. Not only did Gabby urinate all over our new wall to wall carpets and chew on everything, she was a nipper. She'd playfully attack all passing ankles and grab Elizabeth's feet dangling over the couch with her razor sharp teeth. Many nights I lay awake worried she'd hurt Elizabeth someday.
Suddenly a solution occurred to me. Perhaps Jackie would agree to upgrade the dog for an older, calmer one sitting in an animal shelter? Moments after having that thought, Jackie started screaming from the laundry room, "Dad, get Gabby off me! She's attacking my feet again."
That's it. Without saying a word, I picked up the phone and dialed Donald at the shelter. "Help! The puppy we took in a month ago is driving us crazy. Can you find her another home?"
"Puppies are easy, I can find her a home within a week."
"Do you have an older, calmer dog? I have a handicapped child, so I really must be certain."
"As a matter of fact, I have a big, fat, lazy male Lab-mix, who wants nothing more than to lie on a couch all day. He's not only a couch potato, he's the whole sack of potatoes!"
"Perfect! What's his name?"
"Riley."
"Riley! You're kidding me! Hold on to him. We'll be right in!"
Jackie felt sad on the trip to the shelter with Gabby on her lap, yet awed by the name of the dog we would be bringing home. "Mom, that's got to be a sign."
She was right. Not only did the 100-pound Riley come fully neutered with up to date shots, he was completely housebroken. As soon as he got settled into our house, I patted the couch next to Elizabeth letting him know he was welcome to join her--and he did just that. Like Elizabeth, Riley was considered a misfit because he couldn't do much. He didn't know how to fetch, play with a toy or chew on a rawhide, but he did know how to jump on the couch and keep Elizabeth warm without stepping on her.
Jackie finally had a dog and Elizabeth finally had a companion who understood her. It became my pleasure to walk our carpet-friendly couch potato--even in the pouring rain!
End Note: I later learned that Gabby was adopted within a week of being dropped off at the shelter and that her new family had broken her nipping habit. She was making her new home as happy as Riley had made ours.
See photos of Elizabeth and Riley, or learn about their years together in my memoir, "Anything But a Dog! The perfect pet for a girl with congenital CMV," at: http://www.authorlisasaunders.com/
###
Lisa Saunders is a full-time writer for the State University of New York at Rockland. She is the author of four books including, "Anything But a Dog! The perfect pet for a girl with congenital CMV,"which is used as a fund-raiser for animal shelters, scholarships for students with disabilities and for congenital CMV research if purchased through select organizations. Autographed copies of "Anything But a Dog!" are available through the author's seller account on Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/ or by writing to her directly at saundersbooks@aol.com
"Two Dogs and a Shelter"
by Lisa Saunders
(1,200 Words)
"Mom, can I have a dog?" my six-year-old daughter Jackie asked one morning.
I cringed. The dreaded day was here-all kids inevitably ask for one. And why wouldn't they? Movie dogs like Lassie drag you from burning buildings and keep you warm when you're lost in a blizzard. But by the time we're adults, we've learned the truth about them: they urinate on your new wall-to-wall carpets, dig holes in your leather recliners to hide their rawhide bones, and bite your neighbor's kid.
"No, you can't have a dog," I said, bracing myself for the age-old argument.
"Why not?" she demanded. "I promise I'll take care of it. I will, I really will!"
Sure, I thought, knowing like all mothers that I'd be the one to end up walking it in the pouring rain.
"The truth is," I said, "we just can't risk a dog around your sister." I hated admitting that. I didn't want her to blame her little sister, three years younger, for being so fragile. But taking care of Elizabeth, who was quadriplegic from cerebral palsy, was already enough work without adding a dog that might playfully nip at her. Elizabeth was born severely disabled because I cause cytomegalovirus (CMV) when I was pregnant with her. I had been unaware of the precautions women need to take when caring for young children who are often carrying the virus in their saliva and other bodily fluids.
When Elizabeth wasn't getting therapy at her special-ed school, I kept her propped up on the couch so my husband Jim, Jackie or I could easily sit beside her and stretch her rigid limbs. Naturally a dog would try to sit beside her too. I could just picture it landing on Elizabeth when it jumped on the couch.
Suddenly I thought of a way to not to appear like a mean mother. "Jackie," I ventured, “If God brings a dog our door, then you can have it. I figure my dog, Donald Dog, who I had when I was a little girl was meant for me because he came to my parents' door. If one shows up at our house, I'll assume it is a sign that it's a special dog who will be gentle around Elizabeth." This promise actually appeased here—for a while.
In an effort to get Jackie to forget about a dog entirely, I thought of the perfect "starter" pet--a hamster. So began seven years of one dysfunctional pet after another: the hamster who wouldn't run in her wheel, a Stinky Rabbit who did even less, an ant farm that killed off its ants and the cat who attacked Elizabeth's face.
Frustrated by our inability to find a good family pet, on New Year’s Eve at age 12, Jackie tried yet again: "Mom, why can't we just get a dog?"
Wearily, I reminded her that her sister was still too fragile and reiterated my "If God brings one to our door..." promise.
Jim and Jackie decided that if that day should ever come, they would name the dog Riley after the dog in the movie, "Homeward Bound II.
"Unbelievably, a few weeks later, a big, brown female puppy, shivering cold, wet and dirty, tried to jump into our car as we were leaving to go out with friends.
Stunned, I knew Jim and I had to honor our pledge. But first, I ran "found" ads, put up posters, and called the police. Reporting her to our local animal shelter, Donald, the Assistant Director, said that an overwhelmed owner had probably dumped her. Donald gave me a free dog training video, a few chew sticks, and some sound puppy raising advice.
Jackie wouldn't name the puppy Riley because she only knew male dogs named Riley, so she called her Gabrielle-Gabby for short.
Gabby was cute and friendly in public, but at home, she was a terror. Now I was the overwhelmed owner. All my fears of owning a puppy were realized. Not only did Gabby urinate all over our new wall to wall carpets and chew on everything, she was a nipper. She'd playfully attack all passing ankles and grab Elizabeth's feet dangling over the couch with her razor sharp teeth. Many nights I lay awake wondering where she was urinating, and worried she'd hurt Elizabeth.
Suddenly a solution occurred to me. Perhaps Jackie would agree to upgrade the dog for an older, calmer one sitting in an animal shelter? Moments after having that thought, Jackie started screaming from the laundry room, "Dad, get Gabby off me! She's attacking my feet again."
That's it. Without saying a word, I picked up the phone and dialed Donald at the shelter. "Help! The puppy we took in a month ago is driving us crazy. Can you find her another home?"
"Puppies are easy, I can find her a home within a week."
"Do you have an older, calmer dog? I have a handicapped child, so I really must be certain."
"As a matter of fact, I have a big, fat, lazy male Lab-mix, who wants nothing more than to lie on a couch all day. He's not only a couch potato, he's the whole sack of potatoes!"
"Perfect! What's his name?"
"Riley."
"Riley! You're kidding me! Hold on to him. We'll be right in!"
Jackie felt sad on the trip to the shelter with Gabby on her lap, yet awed by the name of the dog we would be bringing home. "Mom, that's got to be a sign."
She was right. And it was a good sign. Not only did the Riley come fully neutered with up to date shots, he was completely housebroken. As soon as he got settled into our house, I patted the couch next to Elizabeth letting him know he was welcome to join her--and he did just that. And in the eyes of outsiders, that's pretty much all he did!
But to Elizabeth, Riley did more--he became her faithful couch companion, never scampering off to do housework or homework. Though they couldn't have been more different on the outside-- he a 100 pound, black bear of a dog and she a pale 40 pounds--they had a lot in common. Like Elizabeth, Riley was considered a misfit because he couldn't do much. He didn't know how to fetch, play with a toy or chew on a rawhide, but he did know how to jump on the couch and keep Elizabeth warm without stepping on her, and she knew how to make him feel appreciated--she never turned away in disgust when he breathed his hot doggy breath directly into her face.
Jackie finally had a dog to pet and take on hiking trips and Elizabeth finally had a companion who understood her. It became my pleasure to walk our carpet-friendly couch potato--even in the pouring rain!
End Note: I later heard from Donald that Gabby was adopted within a week of us dropping her off at the shelter and her new family broke her nipping habit after following the advice of an animal behaviorist. According to Donald, Gabby was making their home as happy as Riley was making ours. See photos of Elizabeth and Riley or an excerpt of my memoir, "Anything But a Dog! The perfect pet for a girl with congenital CMV," at: http://www.authorlisasaunders.com/
###
Lisa Saunders is a full-time writer for the State University of New York at Rockland. She is the author of four books including "Anything But a Dog! The perfect pet for a girl with congenital CMV," which is used as a fund-raiser for animal shelters, scholarships for students with disabilities and for congenital CMV research if purchased through select organizations. Autographed copies of "Anything But a Dog!" are available through the author's seller account on Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/ or by writing to her directly at saundersbooks@aol.com
Dogs, Biting and SheltersAccording to the Dog Bite Law Web site, the vast majority of biting dogs (77%) belong to the victim's family or a friend. When a child less than 4 years old is the victim, the family dog was the attacker half the time (47%), and the attack almost always happened in the family home (90%).
According to the ASPCA, five out of ten dogs in shelters are destroyed simply because there is no one to adopt them. For families with young or disabled children, an older dog from a shelter can be ideal because they've usually outgrown nipping, jumping, and chewing--all the puppy-like behaviors that can be dangerous to a defenseless child.
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