One morning, just as the sun was coming up I spotted two rollie pollie puppies bounding towards me. They were racing across a street that was normally busy as a highway and was even called Speedway but at this hour there wasn’t a car around. I knelt down to receive them as if they were fuzzy footballs that someone had thrown at me. They landed on me with a thud. They were tan and black with dark ridges down their backs and couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8 weeks old. They were cute as buttons and I couldn’t understand why they were all alone but that mystery cleared up quite quickly as I spotted their mother come up over the crest of the hill. She was a Coyote and she had 4 more pups just like mine trailing right behind her. It was not uncommon for Coyotes to mate with stray dogs in Arizona where I lived and these puppies were a result of one such union. I wasn’t sure what to do so I called out to the Coyote just hoping she’d stop but she just kept going. I tried to get the puppies to go to her but they were focused on me. So, I picked them up and took them home.
I couldn’t keep them both and arranged for someone I knew to take one of them. I thought he would provide a good home but as it turned out, he failed her miserably as did I. He named her Oshea and a few weeks later I heard from someone that he was mistreating her. I tried to get her back but was told by his room-mate, a vet tech that she had been given to someone with a farm through the clinic he worked at. I never believed that story but I couldn’t prove otherwise. I think of it often and it is one of my biggest regrets that I didn’t take greater care in finding an excellent home for her.
I kept the other puppy but soon realized I couldn’t offer her enough time with work and school. I asked my mom if she would be able to give the puppy a home which she was more than happy to do. My mom is in fact the one who gave her the name Smokey, after her childhood dog that she grew up with in New York.
Smokey proved to be a real handful for her and we were never sure if it was the Coyote side or the Rhodesian Ridgeback side or the wonderful combination of the two. This young dog shredded just about everything that wasn’t nailed down in my mom’s house but her kind and gentle nature made up for all the chaos.
Smokey had a fondness for watching the world go by outside the window, especially when it involved other animals. On one occasion, two large St. Bernards were walking by the house with their owner and it proved to be too stimulating for Smokey.
She jumped clear through the closed glass window just to be with those dogs. When she reached them, she did the normal doggy thing and wagged her tail, barked a lot and greeted them with lots of sniffing. She somehow managed to avoid getting a single scratch from that ordeal. The window had to be replaced but this time it wouldn’t be single paned!
One day my mom let Smokey outside into the yard to do her nightly ‘business’. Shortly afterward, she heard a wild commotion coming from next door. She looked outside and realized that Smokey was now over at the neighbours and the husband was on top of his car stomping around, yelling to his wife to go get his gun! Smokey was running around the car in circles barking. My mother later found out that earlier in the day a storm had knocked down part of the fence that normally keeps Smokey in and this is how she made her escape. My mom raced out and tried to calm the man down telling him that Smokey didn’t mean any harm and that if he would just stop yelling, she could collect Smokey and get her back into the house. He was very drunk as was often the case and equally angry. The wife came out saying she couldn’t find the gun and Smokey ran over to her. Smokey was certainly obnoxious but she was always gentle. Her only intentions were to sniff this woman and maybe bark a few times. But without a second’s thought she started kicking Smokey over and over and somehow in this scuffle Smokey either scratched her or her mouth grazed the woman’s leg when she kicked Smokey in the mouth. My mom, a very compassionate and honest woman said that the wound seemed to be very superficial but the neighbours raced to the hospital and said they were going to sue!
The next day Animal Control left a note on my mother’s door saying that there would be a court hearing to determine if Smokey was a dangerous dog. We were devastated. When my mother arrived at the courthouse she had Smokey with her. She wanted to show the judge how gentle Smokey was but they said it wouldn’t be necessary and that they had enough evidence already. They declared her a dangerous dog on the spot and gave my mother two choices.
Either put the dog down or build a six foot fence around her entire yard with a 6 inch incline at the top and a foot of cement below the ground. If a fence could not be built, she would have to be confined to a dog run that was closed in at the top, padlocked and posted with bright yellow ‘dangerous dog’ signs on all sides. She would have to be tattooed with a dangerous dog code on her inner thigh that could be recognized by Animal Control Officers should she ever escape and she had to be muzzled whenever outside, including when walking from the house to a dog run. If she were to escape, my mother was told that she could face 30 days in jail in addition to a steep fine.
My mom called me later that day in tears and told me that she just couldn’t manage the situation and felt that Smokey would have to be put to sleep. I was beside myself because I was the one that found these two puppies and if I had only left well enough alone, this would not be happening. She probably would have been part of a wild coyote/dog pack out in the desert but at least she wouldn’t be facing this.
I called my mother back and told her that I would take Smokey and follow through with all of the conditions. Within a week, I had her tattooed, bought a 9’ x 9’ dog run, had the signs posted, bought a muzzle and a padlock for the run. I wanted to build a fence and planned to in the future but I just didn’t have the money at the time and had to settle for the run. At least she was still with us.
On my way to work one day I put her in her run as I usually did and locked the padlock, or at least I thought I had. As it turned out, I hadn’t squeezed the lock hard enough for it to click and lock completely. When I got home, I noticed immediately that Smokey was not in her run. I panicked and raced around my yard calling for her and ran right into the Animal Control officer. He had her in the back of his truck. He told me that he was taking her to the pound and that I would be going to jail and would have to pay a large fine. He said that it was in my best interest to put her down and I could have sworn he was enjoying every minute of it. I couldn’t believe it. Animal Control had come to my house on a surprise inspection visit and took her out of the run she was in and now wanted me to put her to sleep. I have never begged so much in my life and after about half an hour, he released her to me with a 500.00 ticket.
I lived in a university neighbourhood and football was huge there. I had left Smokey in the care of my then live in boyfriend. He called me at work one evening and said that she had gotten out. It was a friend of ours that didn’t realize that Smokey needed to be either in the run or in the house and opened the door to the yard and she was gone.
I looked at my watch and realized that the game was going to let out in about 2 minutes and then my street and all the streets within a 5 block radius would be filled to the brim with students, yelling, drinking and having a good time. I didn’t even tell my boss I was leaving and raced to my car and drove like a crazy person to get home. It was dark and pedestrians were everywhere. I parked my car and just started calling her name, looking for her up one street and down the other. After about half an hour, I was feeling so defeated. I prayed that she would somehow come to me which I thought was an awfully tall order since she never came when I called. Just at that moment I heard the familiar jingling of her collar and I looked up to see Smokey coming right towards me from the alley I was standing in. She waltzed up as if to say “hi mom, what are you doing here?!?” She was just over a year at that time and was the size of a German Shepherd but I wasn’t taking any chances. I picked her up and carried her like a baby for 2 blocks until we were home.
Animal Control had informed me that this sentence that Smokey was living out would last the length of her life unless I moved outside of the city limits. I thought about this often and when I had the opportunity to move back to Canada, I took it and took her with me. No more muzzles, dog runs or padlocks. The only evidence of that horrible year and a half was the tattoo she would sport forever.
Smokey and I had a great life together and she remained gentle as always the entire time. She was loyal and loving and shared these qualities with my other animals as well. She was particularly fond of the three ferrets I had and focused most of her attention on my three legged ferret named Cassidy. I could often find them snuggled up together having a nap.
She was also famous for her policing duties among the cats. She adored them and whenever a scrap broke out, she was on the scene to break it up. She would literally guide one cat to one corner using her nose to push the cat along and then do the same with the other cat. Then she’d park herself between them until things settled down and everyone was getting along again. It was amazing. She was amazing.
When she was 14 her back legs started to give her trouble and she was getting quite stiff and struggling with the stairs. The vet gave us Metacam to relieve the inflammation and dull the pain. This worked quite well for two years and she still was able to play with our other dog Muddy. On occasion she would sit down but could not get back up. I’d pull up her rear so she was standing again and off she’d go. This went on for awhile until one day we were outside and she was sitting and trying to get up. I helped her in the usual way but each time she sat right back down. My heart sank. I picked her up just like I had 15 years earlier and carried her into the house with tears streaming down my face. I knew we had come to the end of the road.
I called the vet and arranged for him to come out to our house. I saw him drive up the driveway and my stomach was filled with uneasy butterflies. I felt sick. We allowed Muddy to say goodbye and brought him over to Smokey. He refused to look at her. Muddy did the very same thing with our cat Tiger before I took him into the vet to be put to sleep. We had the dogs in the back of the truck and as I was taking Tiger into the vet clinic I brought Tiger to them so they could say their goodbyes. Finnigan was his usual excited self and slobbered all over Tiger but Muddy, who usually would do the same, kept looking away and would not acknowledge Tiger. Muddy and Tiger were very close so I guess Muddy sensed what was happening, just as he seemed to with Smokey.
My husband walked Muddy down the path away from the house and away from what was about to happen. They approached the van and just as the vet stepped out, Muddy put his ears back and began to growl. In the few years that he had been with us up until then, he had never growled at anyone.
Bu poor old Smoke was more than happy to see the vet and though she couldn’t get up to properly greet him, she wagged her tail to let him know that he was welcome. Gentle to the end. Rest in peace sweet Smokey. I hope you and your sister are together again.
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