A Stray Dog

On Sunday, my boys went for a bike ride around the block.  We thought it would be a good little jaunt for them to get their wiggles out since we just had an hour-and-a-half home teaching visit (another member of our church came over to visit with us and share an inspirational message).  So, off they went…3 handsome boys.  Of course, upon their return I noticed an additional member of the group.  A dog.  A stray dog.  My boys were all excited, “Mom, we found a dog and he likes us!”  I was attempting to get in a short nap, but that was not to happen.  So I got up and went to our garage and I thought I would see a small scrawny little stray that I could easily determine would not stay with us and the issue would be over.  Nope.  This dog was big, well-fed and adorable.  He enjoyed the attention, as well.  I was happy to see that my sons had already set out a bowl of water and dog food for him.  Soon, I learned that they had named him.  Roscoe.  He hadn’t been with us more than 20 minutes and the boys gave him a name.  Cute!

 Right away, I could tell he was definitely someone's dog.  He had no collar but he was very well-fed and well-behaved.  We later learned that he knew a few commands, like “sit” and “shake”.  Well, I told my sons that we had to do our “due diligence” and at least look for the owner.  They groaned, but complied.  My husband took him in his car with a couple of the boys and they drove him around the neighborhood asking people if they knew the dog or an owner who was missing their dog.  No takers.  The boys were happy. 

It should be noted that we have two other dogs (Sandy and Ringo).  They were born and raised right here on our property and so they get a little territorial.  So, we had to find a place for Roscoe to stay for the night. The garage had Roscoe’s name on it.  We chained the back door to the garage so Ringo and Sandy couldn’t open it and we propped open the garage door to give Roscoe fresh air.  I, of course, worried about the night and if he needed light.  Apparently, I was the only one who didn’t know dogs didn’t need light at night.  Good to know.  I prepared my boys for the possibility of needing to clean up a mess in the garage in the morning because I was 100% sure that I would not be doing it.  They all agreed. 

In the morning, my son went in to the garage from the inside (Family Room) to get his bike out to take to school.  There was Roscoe, happy as ever.  My other boys did the same thing in the morning and he gave them a tail-wagging hello.  I was nervous, of course, being home all day with a dog cooped up in the garage, but he was sweet and hardly barked.  I was growing a teensy bit attached to him. 

I made a simple flyer to post around the neighborhood and noted on it to "please call - my children are getting attached".  I told the boys that we would need to get him scanned for an identification microchip, just in case.  Again they groaned, but I said we have to help him go home if we can.  So, I called a nearby pet hospital, got the information and said we’d be down later in the evening.  When my husband got home from work, they did a dog swap.  They brought Sandy and Ringo into the Family Room and to the garage while at the same time moving Roscoe out of the garage and into the back yard.  We thought Roscoe would want to stretch his legs.  He did, but mostly wanted to empty his bladder.  Which he did.  For a really looooong time.  It was then that I knew that he was domesticated because he didn’t do any ‘business’ in the garage because to him that was considered ‘inside’, but once he was outside.  Well, let freedom ring is all I can say.  Eventually, of course, they took Roscoe into the Pet Hospital.  I could tell now that everyone was attached to him, including my husband who was going to pay for him to have a bath, and my 2 year-old daughter.  I think I remained the only realist. 

When they came home from the Pet Hospital the verdict was that he had no microchip.  They boys were happy.  So was my husband…kind of.  I told the boys that if we keep him, even for a couple of weeks until we find the owner, we have to try to acclimate him to our other dogs and that would require splitting the backyard in half and building a fence with chicken wire to keep them separate.  It would be a lot of work.  They didn’t care.  They wanted to keep Roscoe.  

They next morning, the same routine, only this time, the boys got up early to take him on a walk before school.  That’s a better incentive than scripture reading, apparently :)  Afterschool, I have never seen my kids ride home faster.  My 2^nd and 3^rd sons who are in the 8^th and 4^th grade get out of school before my oldest who is in high school, so they came home first.  They came in to say ‘hi’ to me and then asked if they could walk the dog.  I said ‘sure’ and gave them some reminders including how to pick up the dog’s ‘business’ if needed.  Although grossed out a little, they agreed and left.  5 minutes later they returned.  “What happened?” I asked.  Daniel, my 13 year old said, “The owner saw us and we gave her the dog.”  I was shocked.  I was also surprised that they didn’t have her come down to talk to me.  Then I heard my 10 year old come in, throw down the leash and start crying.  Aww, poor kid.  His heart was broken.  I did my best to comfort him, letting him know that I understand it is sad and that he really wanted to keep Roscoe.  I didn’t try to get him focused on anything else, I just let him grieve. 

15 minutes later, my older son arrived home.  He is 15.  I told him what had happened with Roscoe.  Tears formed in his eyes.  He lamented not being able to say goodbye.  Another broken heart. 

I sent a message to my husband to tell him what had happened.  I explained to him what my son had told me about the owner and what she had said.  Here is my husband’s response:

“Lady was probably a liar and a thief of the lowest caliber. We should've chipped him ourselves and then we could reclaim him from this tawdry woman's clutches.”

Now, I do not know why, but his response makes me laugh every time I read it.  He clearly was attached, as well.  Another heart impacted. 

So here we sit, without this stray dog that so seamlessly impacted our family.  The kids were happier, eager to get up in the morning and my husband even had a brightened perspective.  All because of a dog.  I wonder why that is.  How did a dog that we only had for 2 ½ days have such an impact on my family?  What was it that this dog offered them that made them such better off?  I am not a fan, necessarily of dogs, but this one I liked.  This one I would have kept.  Even I, the great “keep that dog over there” dictator, was willing to allow the dog into our family.  Why?

The answer is easy.  Unconditional love.  This dog did not know us from any other strange family on the streets it roamed.  But what it found were 3 regular kids, 1 adult-sized kid and 1 adorable little princess who fawned all over him.  In return, he wagged his tail, sat quietly by them as they lifted weights, allowed them to take him on walks, and drank from the bowl of water they had given him and he NEVER once growled at them, charged them or barked.  It was unconditional love that was freely given to all, including to Roscoe.  

This then, must be what it is like when we accept the unconditional love from others, including our Father in Heaven and when we give it to those around us.  It is a happier, tail-wagging existence.  To me, that is one of the great purposes of our life – to have joy and to be happy.  Seems like the recipe is clear.

Currently, the boys are working on a plan to save money to adopt a dog from the SPCA later this summer.  I’ll keep you posted!

ps: apparently his real name is Jake, but he will always be "Roscoe" to us