Dog trouble

More dog tales, you say? Sorry. It will be over soon.

I brought my dog Chico back from the kennel last Tuesday. He and his sister Annie did not get along at first, but within 24 hours, they were best friends again. Worse, I fell in love with the big lug all over again. He kept jumping the fence, but he kept coming home, too, and I loved greeting him at the back door.

Over Christmas, I took him back to the kennel because I knew I’d be gone most of the time.

I knew I still needed to find him a new home. People who had seen my flyers or the ad in the paper called about Chico. One woman was so eager she agreed to drive over an hour round trip to meet Chico at the kennel. Well, he got so excited he almost pulled me down the hill, and the poor woman, who was grieving the loss of her Yorkie, decided he was too much for her. Oh well. Since I was there, I brought him home.

This time we all made friends much more quickly. I started thinking maybe I ought to keep my dog. But I don’t think that anymore. Not after today.

Today a prospective new owner showed up around lunchtime. I had both dogs in the house and didn’t have time to stash them outside or in the laundry room. When the door opened, both dashed out and ran away. This kind man actually cleaned part of my clogged gutter–in the rain–while I tried to get the pups back. Finally he said he’d come back later. It didn’t bother him that Chico ran off or that he jumped as high as his head in his excitement. He seemed like the kind of man who could handle a big dog.

It took me an hour and a half to find my dogs and get them into the car. Both were covered with mud. All three of us were soaked. About 10 minutes later, the man returned with his dog, a slightly smaller Chico lookalike. Same breed even: half Lab, half pit bull. Chico almost tore my arm off trying to get to the door. The man and his dog came in. Once the door was shut, I let Chico go. Mistake. He went after that dog with every intention of killing him. He latched on and wouldn’t let go as the dog screeched. Somehow I got bitten on the leg in middle of the action. It took forever for Chico to let go. The man quickly removed his dog, saying he was sorry. Crying, I exiled my dog, cleaned my wound and considered taking him to the animal shelter immediately. Who is going to want a dog that attacks other animals and may attack people, too? He even scared me, even though now he’s as loving as ever. When he pulls with all his strength, I can’t hold him. He still jumps the fences, and if he bites someone, I’m in trouble. So Chico has to go. I called the shelter, leaving a message that I needed to “surrender” my dog.

My baby has to go to jail, unless some strong, easy-going person with no other pets and a fence that Chico can’t jump or climb steps forward this week. Damn. Sometimes being the only human in the house stinks.