Friday, November 9, 2007

Zipped Up


“We’re not getting another dog,” said my wife when I asked her to accompany me to the Hilltop Nursing Home for my monthly pet-therapy visit. “We already have four, and that’s enough.”

“I didn’t say anything about getting another dog; I just asked if you’d like to go with me today. Since I’ve been spending a lot of time volunteering at the shelter, you’ve mentioned you might like to do some volunteering also, and I thought today would be as good a day as any to see if you will like it. We’re just going to take a dog to see some senior citizens. Come on, you might have fun.”

“Well, Ok, I’ll go with you, but no new dogs.”

“Sure,” I agreed, “we’ll just do the therapy thing and then help out at the shelter a bit, and come home.”

When we got to the ADL—the largest no-kill shelter in the southwest—LaTrenda, the volunteer coordinator had Zipper ready to go. The previous day, I had taken Zipper to an elementary school to give several presentations about dog care, and I had arranged for him to go with me today.

I introduced Zipper to my wife Linda, and we took him to the car, where he hopped in the back on command. My wife was impressed. I told her what I knew about Zipper’s past: he is a two-year-old, mix-breed stray, that a policeman brought to the shelter after he saved him from an attack by two mastiffs. Zipper was cut and bruised and had his eye torn a bit. In addition, Zipper was positive for heartworms and was undergoing treatments. He had been at the shelter since September 1.

During the ride to the nursing home, Linda kept turning around and stroking his head and speaking much sweeter words to him than she ever does to me. At the nursing home, I let her take him around for the old folks to pet, and she remarked frequently about how gentle he was. One old lady, deep into senility, was especially fond of Zipper, and he seemed to draw her out of her inner world. As we were getting ready to leave, the old woman began to cry. I gently held her in my arms, and sensing he was needed, Zipper came over and laid his head on her lap. I think it was then my wife fell in love with him.

When we returned to the ADL, Zipper went back into his kennel, and Linda walked around visiting other dogs while I went to the office to do some paper work. When I finished, I came and found Linda standing in front of Zipper’s kennel. “Did you notice,” she said, “that he never barks?”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that before. He’s really a great dog. He’s very curious, and he’s a four-eyed dog.” (Four-eyed dogs have darker markings above the eyes that look like eyebrows. The Native Americans of the Southwest believe four-eyed dogs are special and have great insight.)

“I wonder how long he will have to be treated for heartworms?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Let’s go ask Heike, the shelter manager.”
Heike is a tall, blond walking encyclopedia of dog knowledge and an extremely dedicated champion of animals. She filled us in on the details of Zipper’s treatment, and then said, “Why don’t you take him home for the weekend and foster him and see how he gets along with your other dogs.” I didn’t tell her I was not allowed to get another dog.

Linda looked at me, and I could tell there was some kind of struggle going on in her lovely head. Finally she said, “Yeah, sure, why don’t we do that.”

Two hours after we returned home with Zipper, he had made four new dog friends and met a cat who seems to like him. Two hours and one minute after we returned home, Linda had me take her to the pet store to purchase Zipper a bed, a collar, a leash, a dog bowl, and some toys. Zipper is here to stay.

A short while ago, my wife said, “I just realized, you knew we were going to get that dog when you asked me to go with you this morning.”

In my defense, I told her, “Well, that’s not exactly true. Yesterday, Zipper told me he was going to get us.”

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