Dad and my Dog
Dad always took pride in his wardrobe. He appreciated fine clothing, but after he was diagnosed with dementia, he quickly lost weight. His cashmere sweaters and tailored slacks no longer fit him.
I considered the options for donating the majority of his closet, and selected the thrift store of the Animal Friends’ Rescue Project, as the recipient. Dad had always had a soft spot for rescuing “strays” he encountered over the years, therefore, I sensed he would agree to this particular donation.
After sorting his clothes, I drove to beautiful Pacific Grove and delivered the boxes to the ladies in charge of the thrift store. It was a good feeling to know that the sale of Dad’s clothes would benefit rescued pets.
Since I had driven that distance, I contemplated visiting the actual AFRP pet adoption center itself. It’s conveniently located on Lighthouse Avenue, right around the corner from their resale shop. However, animal lovers will understand my hesitancy to stop in. I am already the “mom” to several rescue pets, and I did not want to experience the guilt that inevitably follows a visit to a shelter.
I was pleasantly surprised when I walked into the adoption center and found a bright and cheerful display of adoptable pets. I was drawn to a bank of well-lighted kennels where a variety of small dogs sat, surrounded by toys, yet eager to meet a friendly human face.
A teeny Chihuahua caught my eye, and I hers. The information card posted on her cage indicated she had been a crippled malnourished stray, who now, after months of loving rehabilitation by AFRP “foster parents” was nearly completely healed from multiple leg surgeries and was ready for adoption to a quiet home.
I asked to be “introduced” to this little one, and, indeed, as soon as she walked over to “meet” me, I could see that she was still limping a bit from her surgeries. Weighing less than 4.5 pounds, it appeared she could stand to gain a pound or two.
A tiny bit of gray hair, mingled throughout her tan fur was evident. The volunteer, in charge of introductions, estimated that this little spayed female was approximately seven years old. I quietly calculated the commonalities between this dog and myself. Hmmm.....she is middle aged, as am I, she is underweight and I am too, she is a bit “gimpy” and I, as a cancer patient, am also. We both need a little love in our lives and could be a very good “match!”
I completed the adoption application and was interviewed, as a prospective “mom” the following day. Although I have been a pet owner all my life and my current family includes a cat, rabbit, parrot and doves, I have never owned a dog before!
Following a detailed interview and a home visit/inspection, the little Chihuahua was delivered to my home. A new chapter in both our lives began!
I, for one, was amazed by her enthusiasm, her joie de vis, in contrast to my quiet and rather subdued cat and rabbit. Chulita (tiny, pretty girl) as I came to call her, appears delighted about every aspect of life, mealtimes, walk time, bed time, indeed, any time is reason for celebration with Chulita!
I appear to be at the top of the list of “things” she is enthusiastic about! My very presence of walking into the room is reason for her shiny eyes to light up and her tail to whirl around resembling a helicopter blade!
She thrives on my affection and is patient and sweet with the youngest of infants and the eldest of seniors. She is a good companion to her “sibling” pets in my home, but will not tolerate another canine (no doubt, residual trauma from being a stray!)
The best news is that she no longer limps; as a matter of fact, she literally races up and down our stairs, chasing her Kong toys and nearly galloping past the sleeping geriatric cat.
All my friends tell me the same thing, “Chulita is so lucky to have YOU as her mom!”
However, I remind them that I am the lucky one!
Not a day has passed when Chulita’s antics haven’t caused me to laugh out loud.
In spite of the challenges that my cancer presents, in spite of Dad’s eventual decline in health, Chulita remains a little ray of sunshine!
Daddy, at the age of 84, became ill, lost weight and eventually passed on, sadly, this was part of the cycle of life. The development of an animal rescue project is one manner in which the cycle of life can be improved.
Had it not been for Dad’s declining health and the need to share his clothing, I never would have met Chulita. Dad is gone now, but I like to think that Chulita was his gift to me!
An excerpt from Where the Red Tailed Hawk Flies: Daddy Has Dementia
Copyright© 2009 by Gabriella Graham/Red Tailed Hawk Publishing/All rights reserved
Chulita at Pacific Grove, CA