The story..(get a cup of coffee, this is long)
I was sorely disappointed that the female Dalmatian that had been found in Redmond WA with the heart on her shoulder was NOT Dulcie. The next day, (or maybe it was that night?) I got an email from a friend of my oldest son, whose mother had told her that there were two Dals in the shelter...a black and white and a liver and white. That was all that was said..so, of course, I had to go look. (I SWEAR!! I was only going to LOOK!!!)
Well, I walked around outside the kennels, and there was only this sweet liver
spotted boy there. I went inside to ask about the black, and the shelter worker was so
happy to see me. It seems that a man had brought in two littermates, that he'd
only had for three weeks. He'd gotten them from his brother-in-law. He'd had them
outside during that time, and just could not keep them. Their names were Thomas (the
liver Dal), and Jefferson (the black Dal). Jefferson had been adopted earlier in the
day, and Thomas had been mournfully howling ever since...until I showed up.
Thomas was skinny..not "bony", but very slender, built more like a female, and not very big. Jefferson was said to be more of a "classic" male Dal, more filled out, bigger, wider, and with a more masculine head. I don't know what markings Jefferson had, but Thomas had a lovely patch over the right side of his head.
The worker asked if I wanted to take him out to one of the pens, and I thought, "Sure...poor boy needs some attention..what could it hurt?" After all, shelter volunteers do this all the time, right? How could I say no?
She told me that he walked well on a leash (not exactly true, but he didn't pull as hard as Fannie, who has to have a prong collar) and she said he loved other dogs and didn't bother cats.
Okay, so I took him outside and he was just a sweety. She'd told me he acted like he was starved for attention. He is not a pushy or frantic Dal, just timid, and acted like he didn't quite know what hugs and kisses and attention were....but he was calm and quiet.
I played for a while with him and then took him back to the office. People were
in and out, getting licenses, etc., and she just let me sit there with him, petting
him, hugging him, kissing him, (I couldn't help myself!) while she dealt with
everyone else. (Oh yeah, this woman was crafty!!!) She just let him work his way into
my heart. Other people asked me if I was going to adopt him. The worker smiled,
and said "I think he has a home."
One family with three or four kids was looking at the available dogs and I told them what a nice Dalmatian this dog was, but they said they didn't really have room for a Dalmatian and they wanted a smaller dog. I wished them luck, but they left empty handed. What a loss for them, to pass up this wonderful dog!
Thomas sat on my feet...with his back up against me, pressed into me. He was happy.
"Oh dear," I thought.."what do I do?" Leave him there and hope for the best? HOPE that he gets adopted, HOPE that no one takes him and leaves this wonderful sweetheart chained up outside or left alone in a yard all day? HOPE for the best for him? Or do I do the unthinkable and bring him home with ME? "George will kill me, George will kill me." (I was trying to talk myself out of doing the inevitable.)
The shelter would be closing in half an hour..I had to make a decision.
"How much is the adoption fee?"
"Since he is already neutered, fifteen dollars."
"ONLY fifteen dollars for this FANTASTIC Dal?? Holy Cow!" the little voice inside my head exclaimed.
I only had five dollars on me..I had to run to get another ten. I left him there after filling out the application. (One woman filled out an application for two cats, and couldn't pick them up til the next day, as was shelter policy. However, I would not have to wait.) I returned after cashing a check at the nearest grocery store to hear Thomas howling back in his kennel. The shelter worker said that had been going on all day long, ever since Jefferson was adopted. Mournful, lost howling. I got choked up, and nearly started to cry...my eyes are stinging with the memory of that lost and lonely sound.
I gave her my fifteen dollars, and she gave me the paperwork..she'd vaccinated him while I was gone. She put the collar and leash he'd been brought in with on him and handed him over. We'd discussed fostering..they don't have a foster program there as they'd had some bad experiences. I told her I would TRY to foster, but that I didn't think I could...and that Thomas would more than likely stay with me. Forever.
I took him outside and he stood by my Bronco, and put his front feet up on me...I hugged and kissed him and told him then he would never have reason to howl with loneliness ever again.
Poor Thomas did not know how to get into my Bronco, so I lifted him in. All the way home, I told him that I was going to be in trouble, that I was going to be committed, that I was crazy for doing this. He just rested his head on my arm.
I parked my Bronco and left Thomas in the car, and let the other dogs out of the house. George had gone to work by this time, so I was "safe" for now. I let the other dogs out and put them in the side yard and closed the gate. I brought Thomas in the front gate and he met the little dogs.
Ping was outraged.
Dogs barked and barked at this intruder, but eventually quieted down, except for
Fannie. Spotted heads poked through the fence separating them from Thomas, and I let
him near them, but he was scared. I didn't blame him. After they quieted down, I
opened the gate and took him in the side yard, where he sat right by me as so many
strange noses poked at him. But not one bit of aggression came from anyone...he was
definitely scared but they were all just curious.
Glen, my eleven year old, had come out to see what the ruckus was all about. He took one look and stormed back into the house, after shooting me a dirty look, as best an eleven year old could muster. When we finally went inside, he said, "I hate you!! Our next dog was supposed to be a PUG!"
In the next instant, he was on his knees, petting Thomas, and said, "Can this one be mine?" He's asked me to not love him too much, and to not let him get too close to me, so that Thomas will bond with him and be HIS dog. He said what a nice liver he was. (Heh heh heh..not bad for a kid his age to know what a brown spotted Dal is called! I am such a good Mom!)
Thomas settled right in and jumped up to curl up on Ben's bed. Now..what to do when George came home from work? How could I sneak in another Dalmatian without him noticing?
I told Glen that when George came in, he was not to say a word. Don't smile, don't
smirk, just act like nothing has changed. I told him that if he felt he couldn't
contain himself, to just leave the room. He agreed.
Thomas was on Ben's bed, which is right next to the computer desk where George would be checking his email, as usual. George came home, and all the other dogs did their usual alarm barking, then they settled down. Thomas stayed on the bed, not making a sound. (Good dog!) George came in and turned on the computer, and checked email, not noticing the new face at all. He then started playing one of his solitaire games..Thomas' tail thumped a greeting but he did not move from his comfy spot.
Glen came to the doorway of the bedroom, trying not to laugh at George's obliviousness. I gave him a warning look.."Quiet! Not one word!" This was a game, to see how long it took before George noticed. I was surprised that Thomas seemed to understand this, that he had to remain quiet and as unnoticeable as possible. (Smart dog!!)
We were chatting a bit, and I acted as though there was nothing out of the ordinary. Finally, I hear, "WHO is THIS???!!" George was then petting this quiet, calm young newcomer, and telling him what a nice dog he was.
I said, "Thomas." I told him that he was a foster dog. His comment was, "Yeah, right!" He kept petting him, and Thomas was then thumping his tail, leaning his head towards George, but still lying there as good as could be. I could almost hear him tell George that he was a good dog, asking if he could please stay, that he really wouldn't be much trouble at all.
George noticed right away that he was already neutered, which was a plus, of course. We discussed the fostering, but George knows me too well, and knews that this dog would be staying.
He is doing very well. He has not messed in the house at all, and while he does not let me know he needs to go out, he waits til I take everyone out. It took a while before he first peed outside, and that was a LONG pee...quite the Dalmatian urination duration!!
When it came time to go to bed, the spotted girls ran upstairs but Thomas stood at
the bottom of the stairs, not understanding where he was to go. I coaxed, pulled, and
half carried a very stiff legged Dal up to the bedroom, and once there, he immediately
curled up on a quilt I had laid down for him. He slept through the night. I got up
once to take a potassium tablet as the top of my foot around the ankle was cramping
very badly, and he stayed in his spot and just thumped his tail. I went back to bed,
and got up a second time with both ankles cramping so badly I couldn't walk. I sat
down and massaged them and was near tears from the pain, and he again thumped his tail
at me.
I went back to bed and finally fell asleep. The next morning, he greeted me with a gentle hug and we started downstairs. His spotted sisters ran down ahead of me, with Thomas following me. He got near the landing, and turned around to go back upstairs, then immediately came back down all the way. (I could almost hear him saying, "How cool! I can go UP and I can go DOWN!!) Later that first day in his new home, he'd even gone up to his quilt for a nap!
He quickly became more comfortable with all the other dogs. Nell was not quite sure about him yet, but Deva seemed to like him and Fannie REALLY liked him. She had was soon doing her best to get him to play. Ping was not quite as outraged as she was at first. She stood her ground at first and just barked, and at one point she rushed at him and chased him. I wish I had had a camera to get a picture of him tucking his tail and running from this tiny little pint sized Peke! She bark her protest at him on occasion, but seemed to be accepting him much more quickly than she did either Fannie or Nell.
Cheyenne (my old Aussie mix) tried to get him to play too. They would stand nose to nose and she would drum her front feet..three or four very rapid stomps with a wagging tail, inviting him to play.
Natasha, the Queen of the house and my elderly Borzoi, had given him the "sniff over", and then proceeded to ignore him.
Thomas curled up on the loveseat, with his new buddy Fannie next to him. He likes
to lie on the landing of the stairs and on the chair in the living room, both favorite
spots for the Dals. He fit like a glove with all of us and Glen even remarked how he
acted like he had been here all his life.
I have been truly amazed at this...he has fit in so well that I have had to agree with Glen. The Dal girls were rather enamored of this gentleman with the brown coat.
Now all we needed to do was find a better name for him. I think, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Thomas found his forever home.
I had decided on the name "Derby" for this boy. All I could think of was "NOT Thomas", especially with the neighbor's son who is rumored to have hit and killed Dulcie...both he and his father were named Thomas...Tommy and Tom. Nope, the name "Thomas" had to go.
His brown spots were rich and dark...the girls loved him, and he had that patch over his right ear and eye. It reminded me of a hat, an old fashioned kind of hat, the kind that gentlemen in days long ago would wear. He was such a handsome Dal, and the girls just swooned over him. Why, he looked just like Paul Newman as Butch Cassidy, and the way the girls fawned over him, he had to have a special name! That patch..the idea of an old fashioned hat...DERBY!! That patch looked like the derby that Butch Cassidy wore!
(I have a "thing" for old hats, and Paul Newman, well, he ain't so bad either!!)
Derby seemed to be the perfect name for him. So, Derby it was! It fits...fits perfectly!
