Albea
12-06-2003, 12:17 PM
This story, by Lola M. Autry, appeared in the last issue of "Animal Watch," the ASPCA magazine.
"My 11-year-old cocker spaniel, Casey J., often
goes with me to the mailbox. We enjoy those
walks, and as friends, we also have our own
ways of communicating. On one particular day,
which happened to be Christmas Eve, Casey J.
seemed more loving and protective than ever.
Often she would run ahead, then look back and
wait for me to catch up. Not this time. She
seemed to be troubled.
As we approached the road where my mailbox
is, I noticed a scrawny, white-haired bird dog
standing beside the road. He was thin and
seemed exhausted, but his tail wagged a
constant, friendly greeting as we approached,
and I saw for a moment that there was a dog
smile on his face.
Casey J. moved cautiously toward the white wraith.
Oh, no, I thought. Not another stray dog.
Quite often, people who no longer want their
dogs drive out onto country roads, turn the
dogs loose, then race away. The poor creatures
are left homeless, confused, afraid and hungry.
Still, there is a limit to how many strays one
family can take in.
I can’t take care of another one, I thought as I
shooed him away. But he wouldn’t shoo. He
simply stood there, looking at me and shaking.
I called Casey J. and turned away. The dog did not follow.
Back at the house I put the dog out of mind
and went about my work. Late in the afternoon
I went out to feed Casey J. The big white dog
was lying in some leaves about 40 yards away.
He watched as I put feed into Casey’s dish. He
probably smelled the food but made no effort
to come for some, and I didn’t offer him any. I
thought that if I didn’t feed him, he’d go to
some other house where maybe the occupants
would want him. I left it at that.
But Casey J. looked from her food dish to the
place where the unwelcome visitor rested. She
turned her back to me and walked straight to
the big dog, wagged her tail a few times, then
turned toward the house. Her friend got out of
the leaf bed slowly and stiffly and followed
Casey J. I watched as my little dog led the big
one to the food dish, then stood aside while her
guest ate all the food.
The Bible says, “And a little child shall lead
them.…” This time it wasn’t a little child, but a
little dog who led the way.
I named my new dog “Christmas,” because it
was that time of the year. I was reminded that I
could furnish room for him. I could adopt this
castaway and honor Casey J., who brought my
attention to his need."
"My 11-year-old cocker spaniel, Casey J., often
goes with me to the mailbox. We enjoy those
walks, and as friends, we also have our own
ways of communicating. On one particular day,
which happened to be Christmas Eve, Casey J.
seemed more loving and protective than ever.
Often she would run ahead, then look back and
wait for me to catch up. Not this time. She
seemed to be troubled.
As we approached the road where my mailbox
is, I noticed a scrawny, white-haired bird dog
standing beside the road. He was thin and
seemed exhausted, but his tail wagged a
constant, friendly greeting as we approached,
and I saw for a moment that there was a dog
smile on his face.
Casey J. moved cautiously toward the white wraith.
Oh, no, I thought. Not another stray dog.
Quite often, people who no longer want their
dogs drive out onto country roads, turn the
dogs loose, then race away. The poor creatures
are left homeless, confused, afraid and hungry.
Still, there is a limit to how many strays one
family can take in.
I can’t take care of another one, I thought as I
shooed him away. But he wouldn’t shoo. He
simply stood there, looking at me and shaking.
I called Casey J. and turned away. The dog did not follow.
Back at the house I put the dog out of mind
and went about my work. Late in the afternoon
I went out to feed Casey J. The big white dog
was lying in some leaves about 40 yards away.
He watched as I put feed into Casey’s dish. He
probably smelled the food but made no effort
to come for some, and I didn’t offer him any. I
thought that if I didn’t feed him, he’d go to
some other house where maybe the occupants
would want him. I left it at that.
But Casey J. looked from her food dish to the
place where the unwelcome visitor rested. She
turned her back to me and walked straight to
the big dog, wagged her tail a few times, then
turned toward the house. Her friend got out of
the leaf bed slowly and stiffly and followed
Casey J. I watched as my little dog led the big
one to the food dish, then stood aside while her
guest ate all the food.
The Bible says, “And a little child shall lead
them.…” This time it wasn’t a little child, but a
little dog who led the way.
I named my new dog “Christmas,” because it
was that time of the year. I was reminded that I
could furnish room for him. I could adopt this
castaway and honor Casey J., who brought my
attention to his need."