Sunday, May 23, 2010

The Angels Brought me a New Baby!

I had a dream of a ragamuffin dog that needed me. I woke up and thought about how I've missed having pets. Many of you know I wrote about the antics of my island cats many times.

They were the love of my life. Then when I began making arrangements to come  to America, after getting out of the hospital in Tortola, BVI, the airlines told me only one pet per person.  It was devastating to even think about leaving my beloved pets behind. Sadly, I chose one pet to fly with me and spent a great deal of time finding very good homes for the remaining two.

As they left with their new owners, I cried myself silly for days. I checked on their progress and cried some more. The remaining cat, was bewildered too. But in a few short days we flew on the big plane and sadly, I was sick, tired, and ready to drop dead when I made a stupid decision, that cost me my cat. He escaped 60 miles from our final destination, and has never been found.

I spent my tiny bits of monies on searching high and low for my missing cat.  I traveled back to look for him, though I could barely walk more than 20-30 feet at a time to search for him. I put up posters. I hired a phone agency that called 500 people within the area, with a recorded notice about my cat. I custom printed 1,000 postcards and sent them out to the area he was lost in. I tangled with a guy who claimed his hound could track down my cat for a huge price that kept changing.  He lead me on false hope, as when it came down to meeting and trading cash and a pillow with the cat's scent on it, he ran me in circles, insisting I send the money by Western Union, which I found suspicious. How would he find my cat if he didn't have things that smelled like my cat to track him with?  Meanwhile the tracker played games with me.  When I made arangements to drive to his hometown, with cash, and with the cat's bedding and so on, he refused. It was a game that ripped my heart to pieces, as I grieved mightily for my best friend of 9 years.

 Emotionally I was now a wreck and financially things were going down the tubes rapidly, while my health an alarming rate.  Trusted friends in the islands, helped keep the daily Dear Miss Mermaid weather reports going. Everyone, including me, thought I would be back rather soon and in much improved health. But I was failing fast and it wasn't good.

Another crisis was going on in my life, a mega  problem, that I won't discuss here, to protect  privacy.   My whole life was coming to a rapid end, and I was ready to let it just finish with a quiet bang.

Kind hearted people tried to give me new cats and kittens to console my aching heart but I just couldn't do it. I wanted my Lil Bear Cat back and I didn't want a replacement. Days, weeks, months, and the fate of my Lil Bear was never known. I sunk into a deep sadness that left my heart ripped apart.

I tried on many days to pretend all was well.  I began searching out for medical help, a whole different story, that is not very promising. I started in earnest on alternative treatments, as those were the ones I could afford.

I was in America, and several businesses that owed me money from Tortola were refusing to pay, the awful pirates!  I should publish their names and put shame all over their face and businesses.

In a dream like state, I found a helluva deal on an old small motorhome and moved into it. I nearly froze, it was so c-c-c-cold. Friends invited me to visit in Florida, and I arrived, so weak, I had to rest in my bunk, over 24 hours before I could begin to visit with them.

The healing began in earnest and they had pets and I began to see daylight at the end of a very long dark lonely tunnel.

I began envisioning myself with a puppy dog. But alas, my motorhome is very small. It seemed like a silly vision.

I've had dogs before and I'm pretty good at training them too. Matter of fact, my cats were well trained. I've never had a small dog before, much less a toy breed, I've always owned robust 60-150 pound dogs. I mean that by weight, I always had big dogs. Well, back in the dark ages, I used to own a home with gardens and there was always room for a big dog or two.

Throughout my hardships I began praying for angels again. Angels appeared when I least expected it and my health and life overall began to improve.

Then I had a dream, night before last, and I could see the face of a little ragamuffin puppy dog that needed me. I woke up and wondered about that dream. I looked at and all the unwanted pets there and it was sad and depressing.

I called and emailed several ads. I found out as the morning progressed, many were puppy mill ads, in disguise, people who wanted huge sums of money for their "unwanted" pets.  Craigslist doesn't allow puppy mill ads, but still the breeders find creative ways to appeal to your heart strings, then ask for a horrendous "rehoming" fee.

One advertisement had no picture, no phone number, just an email and an appeal for "a good home only". I sent a one sentence reply with my phone number "I can give your dog a great loving home."

A young man called and excitedly told me all about his tiny dog and why he was forced to surrender him. I could tell this young mutt was well loved. He was barely 5 months old, the runt of his litter, playful, housebroken and intelligent.

My cell phone doesn't do text or receive pictures, since I am on a budget plan. My dear friend loaned me her car and carrier to go see about this doggy in need. She even rode over with me, after I begged her, that the puppy might need consoling on the ride back, and how could I drive and console the poor little baby?

45 minutes later, I am standing on the porch of the stranger's house and he comes out with the little pooch. He was so ugly, he was cute as can be.

And he was the spitting image of the dog in my dream the night before.

The angels had come and here was my chance. The young man just wanted him to have a loving home, there was no rehoming fees, and oddly, no dog accoutrements, no collar, no leash, no nothing.

I adopted the little boy, and he is MINE now. He weighs about 3-4 pounds and is sadly, malnourished with dull lifeless fur.  Later when the young man called to check on him (I bet he cried his eyes out when we left with his bundle of  love and joy) I heard a lady in the background yelling "Tell her how much he loves to eat Doritos and Corn Chips!"

Well, that explains the dull thin fur, the emaciated body. Puppies need proper care, not junk food.

My friend steered me to Petsmart, and the three of us went inside. I bought him healthy food, a teeny tiny harness and a matching leash. I was astonished at the price of dog toys, I've always made my own cat toys.  I wasn't sure there was much of anything in the motorhome to make dog toys with. Finally I found the discounted marked down toys, and managed to buy a few cheap ones for the bundle of love, who seemed to enjoy being at Petsmart and all the fussing people were pouring over him and his tiny body.

We made it home, and the new baby was passed around, he LOVES to be held. (I am staying in the garden of friends in my motorhome). He is a teeny tiny boy.  A Poohuahua!  He is half Toy Poodle and half Chihuahua. They are also called Chipoos and  Poochis, but I liked the Poohuahua, cause it sounds so funny!  There are no standardize traits for this mix, but this one seems very intelligent.

Though he came already named, I figured I had 24 hours to make up my mind to either keep the name or Christen a new one on him.

I woke up this morning with a new name on the tip of my tongue, for my new beloved and so I shall rename him, to give him good luck while I nourish him to good health.  Out with the old name and the old ways.

I need to walk and exercise more, and what better way than to walk my doggy several times a day.

Yesterday, was a bit rough on the baby, he was shaking off and on, scared of everything new happening around him. He met my friends' other pets and everyone took turns cuddling and comforting him and cooing over him. He is rather cute! 

I showed him around the small motorhome and that seemed to excite him, especially when the tiny water and feed bowls were set out for him, though he refused to eat.

As I dined with my friends in the evening, he sat in my lap and ate a tiny bit of meatball.  Later, I put his harness and leash on him, then took him outside. He rolled over and refused to move.

I gave him a bath (he smelled something rough!) and though he didn't much care for the bath, he loved the towel, and drying off and the playtime afterwards. The sink water was nearly black and I could see how malnourished he was, just a bony little dog with hardly any meat on him at all.

Last night, we climbed into my bed. I've never allowed any of my former dog pets to sleep with me, but this little bit of fluff, barely 3-4 pounds, needed comforting. We played awhile and he seemed happy for the first time all day. Then he astonished me by hopping off the bed and disappearing into the darkness.

I called him name and he ran back, tail wagging and looked up at me. I tapped the bed twice, to signal him to hop up. I figured there was no way  he could, and I would have to climb out of bed and fetch him again.

He ran off in the darkness of the motorhome, and apparently took a long running start as suddenly he came flying up on the bed!  I was giggling like a child and he was mighty pleased that he could hurl himself onto the bed.

I got all comfy, and he found his own spot, and curled up into a tight ball and slept soundly on the side of the bed. When we got up this morning, he wanted to play, play, play and I noticed that sometime during the night he had emptied his puppy chow bowl!

I put on his harness and leash and out we went.  He didn't understand how this harness and leash business worked, but he wandered around the yard uncertainly and finally watered some grass here and there. I begged him to let me at least brush my hair and have one cup of coffee, before we did some serious outside exploring, so back to the motorhome we went.

Last night, the former owner called to check on him, and told me he had never been on a leash, but was housebroken and used to going outside,  to do his potty thing. He also said he was a lap dog and used to being cuddled all the time. Well that, I had pretty much figured out by now.

I did my hair, downed a cup of coffee, while puppy sat at the screen door, looking outside. We played with his toys then, I put his teeny harness and leash back on and out we went. I talked encouragingly to him, as I tried to get him to walk around with the leash. He tugged on it, then he sat and refused to budge, then he rolled over and played dead.

It was hilarious!  It would have made such a great video.

However,  a squirrel, bigger than him, caught his eye and he wanted a closer look. We walked over and suddenly, he GOT IT and understood this leash business and next thing I know, we are doing loops around the neighborhood. 

I've been trying out his new name on him, and he he is already perking up to it! A new name, a new life.  We shall heal together and forge ahead.

As I write this, an exhausted puppy is napping by my side. Can you tell I am smitten?  I am in love?  The angels have saved me AGAIN!


  1. What a wonderful story! I can sense the beginning of a great love affair.

  2. Lovely story !! Keep adopting !! lol We have a very ill cat here. My love Am hoping to see Dr. Laura on Tuesday. Don't even ask me about Dr. George OMG !!!!!

  3. It's me Missa lissa

  4. Hello my Aquatic Freind,

    Here's a mane suggestion for you if you have'nt come up with one. D.O.G. ( Dee-Oh-Gee)

  5. I so much enjoyed reading this post! Thank you for sharing this part of your life with us. It is inspiring and heartening. May your healing continue unabated. The angels are blowing blessed winds your way.

  6. WOW! Thanks for the comments and encouragement.


Life is goof!