Recently, when I was returning home from our farm, I found myself in a dilemma. I was traveling a road that I traveled everyday to check on our horses and chickens that lived about 15 miles from our main home. Not too many cars traveled this route during that time of the day as it was off the main road. There were a few houses on this road, but not many to speak of.
As I came around the curve at the bottom of a hill on this narrow country road, I slammed on my brakes. Sitting in the middle of the road, clearly terrified, was a puppy so young it was barely old enough to walk. My first instinct was to get this puppy out of the road before a car came barreling over the hill and squashed it. While, as I said, the road wasn’t a heavily traveled road, cars did still come by and the danger was clearly present. The poor little thing didn’t know what to do. It didn’t try to scamper away. It just looked miserably at me with the biggest, sweetest big brown eyes I’d ever seen. I scooped him up and moved back to the car. He was the softest, most cuddly creature I’d ever met. He was so small that he fit in my two palms.
Once inside I scanned the area to see if Mother dog was anywhere about. No other dogs were seen. No other cars. No one around. I did a quick visual to be sure he wasn’t obviously injured. I decided that I would start by going to the nearest house and see if this was their pup. First house I went to the sweet elderly lady told me that she didn’t know anything about the pup. The second house, the same. The third house, no one was home, so I left my name and number. Those were the only houses for a mile. This pup was way too small to walk that far, much less more than that. When I heard back from the third house, the news was the same-not theirs and they knew nothing about it, nor did they want to.
I mean what was I supposed to do? The temps were supposed to drop into the lower 20’s that night. He was alone in a road. He would either die from an auto, coyotes or cold. I would not have been able to lay my head down at night if I had left him there; even though my own words to my daughters echoed in my head “Girls, You can’t save them all”.
I had resigned myself to the fact that this pup would have to go to the pound. I had 4 dogs already and could not take on another rescue. One of my daughters works at a Veterinarian Clinic so I took it to her to check it for injuries. The Vet examined it ($$) and said it looked to be only about 5 weeks old. Too young to even be weaned. It was also determined that the little fur ball looked to be a Saint Bernard puppy. Oh Geez! Otherwise healthy, I took it home to try and find its owner over the weekend before we took it to the no kill shelter in town.
I made up flyers with photos ($$) and posted them at the local grocery stores, drug stores, banks, the library, corner market, everywhere I could think that someone might see it. I called people I knew in the area asking if they knew who it might belong to. No one claimed him. One weekend turned into a week before I knew it.
In that week, I absolutely fell in love with that little poot-head. He was the most adorable puppy I have ever seen before (or since). His personality is just a melt your heart, can’t believe how cute, how precious and sweet kind of thing… (aka SUCKER!!!) Of course everyone in my house fell in love with him. His antics are as entertaining as they get. All he has to do is look at you with those big brown eyes and you melt.
Soon a week turned into a month and this precious little stinker had firmly planted himself into our household. He was smaller than our Chihuahua when he first came. But by the months end, he was the same size. We already have a Lab, a Coon-Dog mix, a Chihuahua, and a Chi-Terrier mix. So I simply cannot believe I have yet another dog in my house. Is this what hoarding feels like? And before you send the ASPCA over to my house, let me clarify. Originally the plan was that a friend was going to take him once he had completed his shots series. The weather was still quite cold and unsettled and this friend wasn’t set up for a puppy. But that plan fell by the wayside and Harley, as he has been named (among other things) is now a member of our home. Luckily my daughter works for a Vet and my other daughter is going to college to be a Vet. We have a farm that provides plenty of room to exercise and play. But g-whiz! Sometimes it is overwhelming…
Everywhere we go with Harley, he is ooo-ed and ahh-ed over. He is just that sweet and cute. He never meets a stranger and has this annoying habit of wanting to follow anyone and everyone else. He wants to investigate everything. He is still easily frightened and hides behind my leg if he is unsure about something. He reminds me of a year old toddler. Everyone wants to pet him and thankfully he is very social and friendly. I only heard him bark for the first time recently and that was a playful bark. We joke that he looks like George Washington when he puts his ears back. When he is nervous or alert, his hair lies down on the top of his head and he looks like a balding man. His baths were quite a struggle at first, but are getting better now. He must be dried with a hair dryer and he wants to play tuck and run the whole time. Afterwards he loves his ritual of laying half in my lap as I “pick out his afro” after every bath. He lays there sucking on his “blankie” (aka a rag) the whole time….This takes a long time. And he is a pro at getting dirty, especially with all his slobber.
Every animal in my house is a rescue animal. Each has their own heartbreaking story to tell. I will give each one their own page to tell their story. But we have decided that Harley (aka Bulldozer) must have been dumped that day. Not an uncommon practice in that area. Some cruel hearted fools will either shoot them or put them in a sack with rocks and throw them into the river. I can remember meeting a car that day as I entered that road. Could it have been the “dumpers”? If so, Harley will never know how lucky he was that day that I just happened to be there at that exact time. It was obvious that he was disoriented and petrified. His inaction to do anything more than crouch lower into the road would have doomed him to certain death if a car had come over the hill. But it didn’t, he didn’t and I didn’t….so all is well for Mr. Harley D.. But shame on whomever allowed this poor dog to be out in those elements, becoming a victim of circumstances and uncertainty…
Once weighing a mere 5 pounds, Harley has gained on average three pounds a week, He now weighs almost 60 pounds, just a few months later! And is still growing!! But he is worth it all. He loves us with all his heart and we love him. He actually acts grateful..He has fit in with the others seamlessly. His favorite is our Lab, who seems to enjoy him almost as much. Our Chihuahua and he play nonstop; which is so comical to watch. Our Coon Dog not so much but tolerates him. Our older Chi Terrier won’t allow him to be too rambunctious around him but it all works.
So, we shall see what the future holds for our sweet Harley. His slimy drool slobber and all, his huge muddy paw prints aside, and his need to snuggle at the most inopportune times notwithstanding, he is a pretty neat companion. Next week he may not feel so loveable though because it includes a hospital visit for neutering….No more puppies!!!
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