The Story of Fat White Dog
4am wake-up mutt of the day: Fat white dog (FWD) drank water then shook it off her face while standing with her face next to mine. Bleah!.
I first met FWD when she was about 1 1/2 years old. Fearful, worried about what we were going to do, she would yelp like she was about to be beaten if we came toward her too quickly.
I don’t know a whole lot about her past. My sister-in-law, a caring woman who loves animals, was visiting a friend’s house. In addition to her friend’s companion, a German Shepherd, there was another dog hanging around the house. When asked why, my sister-in-law found out that the scraggly white dog had belonged to the next door neighbor.
There had been a puppy, which the neighbor killed through neglect and starvation. They moved, leaving FWD behind to fend for herself. It was more than a week before her friend discovered that the neighbor had moved so FWD was surviving with whatever she could find. The neighbor was going to send FWD to animal control the next day if no one wanted to give her a home.
Hadn’t the poor dog been through enough misery?
My sister-in-law called her brother and asked him if we could open our home to another needy dog. Reluctantly, I said yes.
It wasn’t easy. She would run and hide, or try to bite if she felt threatened. It took years for FWD to understand that she would always have food, love, and a comfortable bed to sleep in.
How far has she come? She lays next to me each night, a foot over my legs as if to say, “I’ll protect you.” I don’t know why she’s decided she’s my protector, but I seem to be her full-time job.
The change in the way FWD saw me happened when I went to California for 2 weeks of intense book editing. My husband took me to the airport, returning to find a very concerned Fat White Dog. She looked at him accusingly, sniffed the car, jumped onto the hood, looked into the passenger’s side of the window and then looked back at my husband as if to ask…
“Did you take mom to the vet and have her put to sleep?”
The dog who was starving and fearful now greets me every morning and every time I come home. She is rarely far away from me when I’m on the property. She’s been so anxious to greet me that she’s knocked me on my derriere more than once. But she knows that no matter how upset I may get, she’s loved.