About a month ago, I wrote
this post about an awesome pooch we had at the shelter where I work named Moon Doggie, followed closely in time by
this post
where I announced Moon Doggie had been adopted by a kindly older
gentleman named Mr. Earl. Well, as with most things in my life, that was not
the end of the story.
Honestly, Part 2 of this saga started about two weeks ago, but I was too
sad and upset to write about it then. With some divine intervention,
the story now has a happier ending, so I thought I would share with you
what happened.
First of all, let me say that one of the occupational hazards of working
for a shelter is that every so often you become attached to an animal
more than you know you should. Hence, the adoption of two dogs into my
home over the past two years. Moon Doggie was one of those dogs for me.
He was just an exceptional animal. He had been with us since he was a
puppy and we could not figure out why he kept getting passed over. He
was so calm. So unaffected by being in a shelter. So awesome. I, mean,
LOOK AT THIS FACE:

Really?!? Seriously?!? How could you not love this face?!? (PS, this is
Moon Doggie with Santa at our Pet Photos with Santa Claws fundraiser
this past weekend) Anyhoodle, Mr. Earl saw Moon Doggie online and came
to the shelter, spent time with him, and decided to adopt. Both parties
were so happy. Mr. Earl and I stayed in touch over the next few weeks,
emailing and calling, and he assured me Moon Doggie, who he renamed Gus
(thank God!) was doing great. Sleeping in the bed with him. Never using
the potty in the house. Great. He really loved Gus and Gus loved him.
Two weeks after he adopted him, Mr. Earl brought Gus back. To return.
They called me to the Adoption Desk because Mr. Earl asked for me. He
was in tears. When an 80-year-old man stands in front of you in tears, it breaks your heart. Hard. Seems Mr.
Earl's family (he lives with his son and daughter-in-law in their
basement) made him bring Gus back. Well, they didn't MAKE him, but they
made his life 110% miserable until he did.
The best I could put together is Mr. Earl's daughter-in-law is a the
kind of bitch that rhymes with "punt." Here's what I think happened: Mr.
Earl tells his son he is adopting a dog and son (being a man) says,
"Yeah, whatever Dad." And then Mr. Earl shows up with the dog and DIL is
like "oh, Hell, no!" and proceeds to do all kinds of shitty things like
say Mr. Earl's granddaughters can no longer come see him downstairs
because Gus is "too rough" with them. BULL and SHIT. That dog does not
have a rough bone in his body. But she knew where to hit him
hardest...in Mr. Earl's heart. The line that separated his
granddaughters and Gus.
So, torn between his love for his new dog and the love for his family,
Mr. Earl returned Gus. Though it broke his heart in every single place. He had to walk out to
compose himself. I had to walk away too because I was about to have an
ugly cry. I hugged Mr. Earl. Hard. I offered to call his family. But he was resolute.
I cried all the rest of the day. Cried and cried. A little
for Gus. But mostly for Mr. Earl. Because he did everything right and
is a good, kind man who just wanted a companion for his golden years. It
just was. not. right.
I called Mr. Earl the next day to check on him. He said, "I tell you, I
am not a drinking man, but I indulged a little last night." He said he
missed his buddy. I told him I would do everything in my power to find
Gus another forever home. Mr. Earl thanked me for calling. Said he
appreciated it more than he could say. I am glad because my whole intent
was to let him know someone really cared about him and that he was hurting.
A week later, Mr. Earl called me. He wanted to come see me and wanted to make sure I was in. He brought me a copy of his book:
See, Mr. Earl has lived an INCREDIBLE life and he wanted to put it down
in writing for his family so he could leave his story behind. Abandoned
before birth by his dad, two months after birth by his mom, raised in
foster homes, ran away at 15, joined Army with falsified birth
certificate at 16, decorated Korean War vet, Army Ranger, served under
LBJ in the White House, accomplished carpenter, widowed after a happy
marriage when his wife became ill. And all he wanted was a damn dog to
call his own, to be his buddy.
I know his DIL will never read this, but I write to purge, so here I go:
Lady, you will be so judged by what you have done. This man is the
father of your husband, the grandfather of your daughters, and he
deserves your respect for that alone. He serves as your constant
babysitter, remodeled your damn basement (probably on his own dime), and
let go of the dog he loved because he loves you more than you love him.
A lot more, it seems. And, hey, there is a little thing called the
Bible. It has something called commandments. Check out the fifth one.
Because I would just bet you call yourself a Christian but it seems you
could use a refresher. And remember that your actions set the example
for your children, DIL. And I just pray your daughters don't treat you
the same when you are old.
Now, for the good news. This past Tuesday, Gus was adopted. Again. And I
truly think the third time will be a charm. It was a wonderful family
with a 5-year-old son who loves animals (he was a vet for Halloween!)
who really wanted a dog. They also were thoughtful....the mom called
twice to talk with me at length then the parents came for a visit,
without the son in case he became attached, and fell in love with Gus. I
told them that while I thought Gus was truly exceptional, I did not
want them to adopt him unless they were SURE it was right. And they
were.
And they are keeping the name Gus. And when I told them about Mr. Earl,
the mom said she would love to be in contact with him to share news and photos of Gus. She even said she
hoped he might come visit them one day. THAT is how you treat seniors in
your life, people. Take note.
After the holidays, when he has had a little space, Mr. Earl said he
would like to start volunteering with us. Walking dogs. Maybe that will
fulfill him without pissing off his DIL. Unless, of course, it cuts into
her free babysitting time. I swear to you that should he be
guilted into not volunteering, I don't know if I will be able to hold my
tongue. She may get a call and a come-to-Jesus chat with me. Word.
Well, I am off. I will write another post over the weekend to catch you
up on all the other happenings around Casa Bunny. It has been a busy few
weeks....Christmas decorating, lots of work, lots of fun....no wonder I
am sick as, well, a dog. Later taters! Bun.