So this happened to me today. I’ve reblogged it from my “live blog.” (This is my education blog.)
In Which a Dog Finds a Forever Home and I am Bitten
I listed this little dog named Runs on Craig’s list as needing a home. His skin mama died and I was given charge of,him. Two homes who said they wanted him fell through.
The third one who responded made me a little hesitant. 1. They couldn’t come to meet him where I live. 2. I’d have to drive 45 minutes away to meet them where they lived 3. I could tell by the way the woman was texting and e-mailing me that she was, er, a little off, shall we say, cognitively.
I’m not prejudiced against people with disabilities. I have four people in my immediate family with them, two with developmental delays. I was more nervous that 1. She was who she said she was; 2. She had the means to care for a dog and 3. She would have the awareness to care for him.
But, as it turned out, she wanted the dog for her mother, not herself. But for some strange reason, didn’t want me to meet her mother. That bothered me. A lot. Still, I thought I’d check it out. Sometimes people with cognitive disabilities like to feel in control and I thought I could talk her into going to her Mom’s home.
So I went and as soon as I pulled up to the house I knew it wasn’t good. It was kind of hoarder-esque inside and out. And when she answered the door I could hear another dog in the backyard. She was also just as unkempt as I thought she’d be—maybe a bit worse. And I’m of the opinion that if you can’t care for yourself, you can’t care for a pet. I’m not talking just lounging in PJs unkempt, I’m talking, haven’t bathed in who knows how long unkempt.
Me: You have a dog?
She: Uhm…no…I’m babysitting.
Me: Well, he (I point to the little chihuahua) doesn’t get along with other dogs very well. What kind of a dog is it?
She: A pit bull. But she’s nice.
Me: Uhm, can I meet this dog?
I had a couple of reasons for wanting to meet the dog: 1. Was it well cared for? and 2. Was it aggressive?
She led me to the backyard and a gorgeous, well fed, female pittie barreled past the backdoor and into the house. After greeting us enthusiastically (I fell in love with her on the spot) she jumped up on the woman who was holding Runs. Runs wanted nothing of this pit bull and snarled and barked and bit at him and a dog fight ensued.
I got in the middle, grabbed Runs and handed him off to one of the twins (they were with me, thank God) and we exited the house as the woman screamed into the phone: “Gary! Help! Help! Gary! Help me!”
In the middle of getting the dogs separated I got bit. Not by the Pit but by Runs. I had blood gushing out of my hand and as I sat in the car I told the boys that we were most definitely NOT leaving him at that house.
As I wiped blood off my hand and coat, the woman came running out to the car.
She: “Can I get in your car and have you take me to my mom’s house?”
I can’t tell you why I agreed but something inside of me told me to go ahead. Yes, I’m a sucker and yes, I’m a pushover, but not when it comes to the safety of creatures who can’t defend themselves. (Although, I must say, I find it rather humorous that a Chihuahua is the one who bit me, not the Pit bull.)
So, she got in my car, and took me on this rabbit trail long ways to her mom’s house. I have no idea why. But I found out as we got there that her mom only lived two blocks away. It took us 15 minutes to get there! (That cognitive thing? Maybe, but I have a hunch she wanted a car ride.)
On the front porch is someone smoking. Oh no. I really wanted Runs in a smoke-free home. But inside—this is where it gets good—inside is a woman who looks like she could be Run’s skin mom who passed away.
Now, let me back up and tell you something. While I’m going through this, I’m praying under my breath for God to give me a sign whether or not to leave the little dog with this gal’s mother. Okay? Remember that.
So, we went in, and the woman looked just like the Run’s skin mother who passed and the house is tidy and cute like a little doll’s house. And I learned that no one was allowed to smoke in the house. And I have a nose for smoke, and none was detected.
But I did notice a bird in a cage in the living room.
Me: “What kind of bird is that?”
She: “A Cockatiel.”
The boys and I look at each other. Run’s mom had a Cockatiel! Okay, that’s two things: she looks like his former mom and she has the same kind of bird as his former mom.
She: He was my husband’s bird. My husband passed away nine months ago and the bird almost died when he died.
Me: This dog’s mama’s bird died when she died. They die of broken hearts.
(Birds do this, I discovered. They are very in-tune with their owners.)
So, we visited some more and found out that the former mom’s bird’s name was Roger and this bird’s name is Rocky.
The lady points me to her husband’s picture. He died a horrible death, first of POD, and then of MRSA after his legs were amputated. Next to her husband’s picture is an urn of her son’s ashes who passed away just 4 months ago unexpectedly of a heart attack.
This woman has lost two people in the past nine months: her husband and her son.
This little dog needs her and she needs him.
But I’m not done.
I notice Runs keeps cocking his head. I don’t have a police scanner at home so I didn’t know that’s what she had and that’s why Runs kept cocking his head when it would go off.
Because you see, his skin mother who passed also had a police scanner.
That’s three, no four, confirmations this was a match: she looks like his mom, she has the exact same kind of bird, she listens to a police scanner, and she’s had two loved ones pass away.
Do you believe in miracles? I sure do. I’m so glad I listened to that still small voice that told me to go forward with the unkempt woman and find her mom’s house.
I know where she lives and I have her phone number so I can check on him. His new Mom is so excited and happy. “I’m going to take him everywhere with me.” Runs will love that because there’s nothing Runs loves more than running around and riding in the car.
I overheard the daughter telling someone on the phone: “Mom can’t stop smiling. She hasn’t smiled in a long time, has she?”
God is so good. And I’m feeling very happy that Runs now has a forever home.