Hi, Folks! 

First of all, I want to thank M.R. Sellars for entertaining you while I was gone, and for welcoming my fabulous WillowTree Press publicist, Wendy O’Brien to MySpace.  [Great job, Sellars - although I really could've done without the old age reminder!  Chuckle!]  Thanks to all of you as well, for welcoming Wendy to the MySpace family. 

Second…I’m afraid that this isn’t going to be one of those funny blogs - but I promise I’ll engineer a blog designed to tickle your funny-bones in a couple of days.  Right now, though, I’m still in recuperation mode.

It’s been an interesting and exhausting few days, but definitely well worth it.  Mark and I have a gorgeous new addition to the family.  Her name is Dixie and aside from having a luxurious coat of black fur and being the sweetest thing you’ve ever known, she’s a lot like me:  extraordinarily funny, extremely busy, tenaciously determined, and terribly expensive.  [How could she not be?  She is, after all, a Taurus; her birthday falls exactly one week after mine.  ;)]

How anyone could not fall madly in love with this little girl is simply beyond me.  And yet…they didn’t.  She was removed from a home where Labrador retrievers - I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around this one - were being trained to be vicious attack dogs.  Can you imagine?!  Well…I couldn’t - not at first, anyway.  And if it hadn’t been for the fact that the police caught it all on tape - one of the dogs actually treed a grown man - they might not have either.

At any rate, Dixie [who was dehydrated, skinny, and only 15 weeks old at the time] was taken to the Mercer County Animal Control Shelter in Illinois.  The folks there are really good people, but try as they might, they couldn’t find a home for the little girl.  You see, she was the victim of  something called “black dog syndrome.”  So what is that exactly?  It’s the strange notion that black dogs are unlucky.  And as silly as it sounds, for the most part it’s true - although not for the reasons that most folks think.

It’s not that black dogs are born unlucky.  They become that way at the hands of human beings.  Why?  Because a lot of people are…there’s just no nice way to say this, so I’ll just blurt it out…either superstitious morons without two brain cells to rub together, or just plain stupid!  And it’s black dog that pays the price for their foolishness.  They’re the first to be dumped at the shelter - if they even make it that far - and the last left in the shelter kennel.  And if they do finally get to be first again, that’s not lucky, either.  That’s right…they’re the first to be euthanized to make space for the other “more acceptable” dogs coming in.  It’s a horrible, horrible cycle.

So, why aren’t these dogs simply transferred to a no-kill shelter when their time runs out?  Because that’s generally not an option, either.  The fact of the matter is that no-kill shelters have different rules than the others.  That means they can actually refuse any dog they choose.  And so a lot of no-kill shelters - incidentally, this includes many of the facilities run by both the Humane Society and the SPCA - have completely and irrevocably closed their doors to black dogs.  [This is why I'm really careful about how I donate my money and to whom, and why I urge people to research the facilities they support financially.  Sigh!]

But I digress.  The folks at Mercer County, being the caring, loving people they are - and knowing what a delightful creature Dixie was - began looking for alternative ways to save her life.  They contacted every rescue organization they worked with.  They contacted every person they knew who fostered animals.  They did everything they could think of, but to no avail.  Every one was filled to capacity, and no one had a spot for her.

Somehow, though, Dixie’s luck turned around at the 11^th hour.  And it was due to the kindness of the folks at Happy Labs Rescue - a family-owned operation that takes care of more than 30 dogs at a time - who drove all the way from Columbus, Indiana to save her.  But truth be told, she suffered from black dog syndrome there, too.  No one even bothered to inquire about her for three whole months.  So there she sat while other dogs at the rescue were being adopted.

I  knew Dixie was perfect for us the minute I saw her picture online.  How?  Well, at the risk of sounding hinky, there were “signs.”  For one thing, she looked exactly like Sadie did at the age her pictures were taken.  The pictures were taken when she was five months old, the same age as Sadie when I adopted her.  And if that weren’t enough, the pictures were taken the day after Sadie crossed over.  [Actually, there was more.  But that's a whole other blog - one that I promise to get to in a few days.]  So…I asked whether Dixie was still available and if an out-of-state adoption was possible.  And once I had an affirmative answer to both, I made plans to drive out to get her.  

Fortunately, I didn’t have to make the whole drive to Indiana.  Mike with Happy Labs offered to meet me part-way just the other side of Columbus, Ohio, and I can’t even begin to say how grateful I was.  Still, the trip wasn’t easy.  It was an eight-hour jaunt to the meeting spot, and I had to drive through a blizzard in the Allegheny Mountains.  It wasn’t pretty.   There was next to no visibility, my windshield froze, and using the windshield wipers only made things worse.  The road conditions were treacherous enough in a few places to scare the hell out of me.  And more than once, it occurred to me that this wasn’t one of my brightest ideas.  

Still, I kept driving as there was one thing I knew for sure.  No matter how scared I was, it couldn’t possibly compare to the fear Dixie must’ve have felt in her short life -and all the ice and snow and frozen windshields in the world weren’t going to keep me from giving that wonderful pup the home she deserved.   And once I came to that conclusion, something interesting happened:  The snow stopped falling.  The temperature rose and the ice on my windshield melted.  My tires hit dry ground, and the last few hours smooth sailing.

At any rate, the aggravation was well worth the effort.  Dixie and I fell in love at first sight, and made the trip home without incident. Mark fell in love with her the minute she  bounced out of the car; so much so in fact, that he’s spared no expense:  Our apartment is literally filled to the brim with toys strewn all over the place.  Honestly, Folks…you’d think we had a whole house full of toddlers - and I don’t know who’s having more fun with the toys:  Mark or her!  [I've finally given up on putting the toys in the basket.  The second I scoop them all up, Dixie just unloads them everywhere again. ;)]

So…how is she doing in her new home?  Fabulously!  We haven’t had any accidents in the house at all, as she learned very quickly that we handed out treats every time she did her stuff outside.  [She literally leaps into the apartment wiggling all over to let me know she's back, and then runs over to the table where the treats are kept.  ;)]  We’ve also discovered that she’s already crate-trained, which is really good news.  [We didn't have a crate for her the first night, and she was soooo busy that I wound up sleeping on the bathroom floor with her.  Suffice it say that I don't do well on ceramic tile no matter how many blankets are involved.]

The only thing we still have to work on is that loud voice of hers.  Yeah…she likes the sound of it, and is very vocal about everything - from the sight of her reflection in the mirror to people walking by the window - or nothing at all.

Okay…the squeaky ball just whizzed past my head, to I need to talk to Mark about his aim.  [Hmmm…maybe Mark's next birthday won't be that expensive after all.  Now that he's discovered squeaky toys, perhaps I should just get him a gift card for PetSmart.  ;)]

Just one more thing:  I’d say that Dixie’s adoption was lucky for all three of us.  She’s an absolutely amazing animal and we’re honored to have her as part of our family.  So…if you’re thinking of adding a pet to your family, please consider one of the wonderful black dogs just begging to be adopted.  You’ll not only be truly saving a life, but adding immeasurable joy to your own!

Hugs!

Dorothy…

Today, I lost my best friend. It’s hard to believe she’s even gone. But I know she is: I was there when she breathed her last breath.To a large degree, Sadie was the sanity in my life for 14 years. We grew old together, and I loved her more than words can say. In fact, I loved her from the instant our eyes met. They held mischief and sass and a longing for a better life. And I, who was looking for much the same things at the time, simply couldn’t resist such unbridled energy . So, I took that sassy five-month-old pup home with me the day before she was to be put down - and such began our partnership. A partnership of unconditional love and understanding, of trust and respect.

I have to say that Sadie wasn’t perfect. I remember coming home from work to discover that she’d entertained herself by tearing up the carpet in the living room. [It wasn't just a little tear, mind you; it was absolutely beyond repair.] I remember the day she entertained herself by chewing up my ATM card, and when she tired of playing with that, how she dragged out a box of delica beads and scattered them about for good measure. I remember her chewing up a black magic marker and leaving a six-inch spot of indelible ink as proof. And I remember how she loved to chew rocks. [I remember the latter very well. It cost a small fortune in vet bills to have the damaged teeth extracted, and I was never able to break her of the habit.]

But chewing wasn’t the only problem. She stole my husband as well. When Mark came into our lives, she claimed him immediately. I don’t mean that she just accepted him, though. It was far more intense than that. She actually decided that he was hers, and did everything in her power to let us know. She prissed and pranced and flirted. She did things for him that she’d never have done for me. [Jumping into the bed of the truck and swimming - which she hated - come to mind here.] There were times that I think she even looked forward to me touring because she’d have him to herself. I didn’t mind, though. Her life was finally perfect as was mine, and that was a far cry from how hers had begun - running loose in the woods for her first five months.

Despite her imperfections, Sadie was smart as the dickens. [It took ten minutes to teach her to sit, and only two days to house break her.] She was organized. [The day I brought her home, she lined up her new toys in a row and put her paws around them.] She had a nose for magic. [I actually watched her dig through the snow, find the bones she'd buried, arrange them in a circle, and lie down in the middle of it.] She not only understood English - do you know any other dog who immediately understands the commands “driveway,” “side walk,” or “last call?” - but complete sentences. [After the carpet destruction incident, I told her she couldn't live with me anymore if she ever did that again. And guess what? She never did.] She adjusted well to changes of circumstance. [ She made five house moves with us.] But most of all, she loved us. Gods, how she loved. And we loved her right back - more than anyone will ever know..

So today, we did the last loving thing we could for the companion who had given us so much joy. The companion who was so perfect for us. Despite our pain, we put an end to hers. And I can only hope that our dear, sweet, sassy Sadie has found lots of friends to run and play with on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.

Tearfully,

Dorothy…