Must Love Dogs

Most people, when they see my pack of dogs, ask me why in the world do I have so many. I tell them each has his own story as to how he ended up here, for I have never seen one of them as a puppy. I've decided to blog about this unique blend of dogs, their role in my life, and the observations of the relationships between them.

It used to be just Scout. She was Danny's Australian Shepherd when we married; he used to take her everywhere. Our friends Tim and Worth used to work with Danny and along the way they acquired three dogs - Jebo, Scooter, and Bandit. Worth had Jebo for a while, as he was one of Scout's pups from her only litter years ago. Scooter came along from Worth's sister, who caught wind this little terror was heading to the pound. Of course, Worth with his sweet heart volunteered to take the dog. Tim bought Bandit, a red border collie, from a flea market. Bandit could jump better than any dog I'd ever seen. He used to showoff about it, too, by throwing his hip and legs to the side as he jumped into the truck without the tailgate down.

Tim and Worth thought their dogs, too, should go to work. The four dogs became a menace - running around jobsites as if they owned them, picking fights with other dogs, rolling in anything they found dead, etc. The guys, after riding home with these smelly dogs, decided perhaps they should leave them at home. I was working at the time so I didn't spend much time with the pack, except for Scout. She'd already become a "mama's girl" and only followed my commands. She and I went everywhere together and developed quite a bond. The bond grew stronger after I quit work and was at home all day with her. The other dogs would cross over the mountain and hang out with Scout and me all day, but they always went home when the guys returned from work.

One day we got a phone call from one of Danny's lifelong friends from Wilmington. He had a year-old bloodhound that needed a good home. Don's mother had been keeping the dog at a horsefarm. Unfortunately, she lost the farm and had no place big enough for the bloodhound. Danny told Don he appreciated the offer but one dog was enough. Little did he know he would eat those words later! Again, Worth quickly stated that he would take the bloodhound. Don's mother brought the dog on the 7 hour trip to his new home, and Worth named him Blue. Danny's mom, who was Tim and Worth's landlord at the time, was not happy about the new dog in the family. In fact, she loathed the huge dog so much she started charging extra rent!

Blue and Scooter immediately hit it off. Scooter took his seniority seriously, and although he weighed 70 pounds less than Blue, he established his dominance right away. And this little one maintains his dominance to this day! Since Blue learned his place, the two of them have been running buddies ever since. Jebo's relationship with Blue was and still is different. Neither males are fixed, so that is the first source of contention. The other source, which I observed right away, was jealousy. Jebo's jealousy of Worth's attention to Blue was obvious to all. Eventually, Jebo quit hanging out with Worth very much and stayed at our house, being a mama's boy with Scout. Danny and I always marveled at the way Scout and Jebo treated each other in comparison to the others. When all the boys came to see Scout, she ALWAYS greeted Jebo first, with a lick on his nose as he wagged his docked tail. Years after being reunited, they seemed to know that they had a special bond, and we thought that was pretty cool. Even though Jebo felt slighted, Worth was so proud of Blue. They were "Pet of the Week" in Avery County and he referred to Blue as his chick magnet. Actually, Blue is just a people magnet - gender irrelevant.

On one sunny day in November, my friend Jamie and I had been riding horses. We learned on that trip that one of Jamie's dear friends was killed in a tractor accident earlier that afternoon, so we rode even longer to talk about it and mourn. As always, the dogs were right there with us. We were on a paved road just a few hundred feet from the trail home when a few neighborhood dogs started barking. Bandit immediately turned around and darted toward them across the road. He never saw the Dodge truck coming around the curve flying toward him, never stopping as they rode over his athletic body. It happened so fast I couldn't even get Bandit's name out of my mouth. I jumped off my horse so fast and ran to the dying dog, furious at the hillbilly that never even stopped. I cradled Bandit in my arms until he took his last breath. I picked him up, laid him across my saddle, mounted up, and cried all the way home. As soon as we came through the gate, Tim was there sitting on a horse, waiting on us. I'll never forget his face as he saw me coming with his lifeless companion draped over my lap. I don't know if he'll ever forgive me because he and Danny thought it was all my fault. Scout was just a fraction of a second away from the same fate. Somehow, she got out of the way but poor Bandit didn't. The dogs were quiet and lazy for a few days, mourning the loss of their buddy. It was down to Scout, Jebo, Scooter, and Blue for the next couple years. They became great friends.

On the last Monday morning in April of last year, I was coming out of the barn and saw a yellow dog crossing our pasture. I thought he was our neighbor's dog until I called to him and saw his eyes. They were bright blue! I immediately recognized this rare looking dog as the dog that had been hanging out at the grocery store 20 minutes away. My neighbor recognized him, too, for she works at the store and had been giving him all the dented cans of dog food. I thought she had brought him home and vice versa. He stayed for a day, went away, came back, and went away again. I had told Danny about this blue-eyed beauty but he never came around when Danny was home. One day Danny and I were driving home and we met this dog headed the opposite way. I stopped to show Danny his eyes, and the dog turned around and followed us home. He would NOT get in the truck, just kept running all the way behind us. Since that evening, he has never left my side. I started calling him "Roscoe", to continue the Dukes of Hazzard naming system.

My mailman asked me where I got the dog and I explained that he was a stray. Ironically, this dog was once his wife's puppy! She had a hard time keeping the dog at home and eventually gave him to her mother, who oddly enough was named Rhonda! Roscoe's original name was Rupert. I gave the mailman my phone number so I could speak with and return the dog to his rightful owner. Rhonda had an equally hard time keeping Roscoe Rupert at home, so she said if I could keep him home then I could have him. I had all the dogs with me when I was hauling trash one day when my friend Junior, the attendant, came out to help unload. He petted all the dogs and said, "Rupert??" He is Rhonda's father-in-law! Another piece of Roscoe's history! He, too, said they could never keep him at home and for 6 years tried to get him in a truck. (It took me two days.) I'm still not sure how Roscoe ended up so far away from home. I learned that Rhonda attends the church at the bottom of my road and he walked up on a Monday so...

I feel pretty flattered that Roscoe chose me as his master. This dog adores me! Worth warned me that he would be a killing dog with his almost-white eyes, but I kept him anyway. A wild cat, a turkey, and a few rabbits later I understood what Worth saw in his eyes. Roscoe is so gentle until he is provoked, then he becomes vicious. His instincts are strong and he knows the two best places to go in for a kill. I have no doubt that of my five dogs, he would attack for me with more vigor than any other. He loves to ride in the truck and has never ran away. In fact, when we go over to the family farm, he usually crosses the mountain and arrives home before we do. It was funny when we learned of his Rupert name and started calling him that from time to time. It seemed he looked at us as if we were not supposed to know of his former life. Either way, the dog is totally happy now and a joy to have.

Worth died suddenly just a couple weeks after Roscoe arrived. His wife, Wendy, let us keep his three dogs and one of his horses, since they loved their mountain home so much. In a matter of weeks, I went from owning one dog to five. It was a huge adjustment for Scout and definitely for me. It took weeks to establish a routine and order. Blue, Scooter, and Jebo searched for Worth for weeks before accepting that he was gone and this was their new home. It took even longer for them to accept me as their master, which they now have done whole-heartedly.

Since I have the luxury of being home all day, the dogs quickly became active in my personal routine. They took on my jobs as their jobs, too. They anxiously await to hear my boots on the floor in the morning because they know I'm about to come outside. Sometimes they don't wait and wimper at the door, especially if I take longer than usual. It is like the Glorious Appearing each morning that I walk out, as if they have waited so long to see me and feel my hand on their head. It is absolutely precious! I often peek out the window after slipping on my boots to see their reactions...tails wagging, stretching, barking, and jumping around like puppies. They are so excited to go anywhere, even to the mailbox only 25 feet away.

Danny is a bit offended that the dogs only pay attention to him if he has a snack in his hand. I make Danny feed them scraps each evening so they continue to like him! We laugh because they never follow him anywhere, not even on the four-wheeler, and they never even lift their heads when he walks outside. They only get in his truck if I tell them to or they see me get in first. They are so loyal and loving, to me that is!

Each dog has his/her own quirks, but they blend together nicely. Scout and Jebo are a click, and Scooter and Blue are a click. Roscoe is happy to be with any of them, but mostly stays literally right beside me. They growl over me and food, but don't really fight. They know that's not allowed. People think I'm crazy because I talk to them so much, but who else is there to talk to in a lonely holler? I believe talking to them has made them so much easier to handle because five dogs can quickly get out of hand. They have quite a vocabulary that they recognize, including the tone of my voice. I've trained them to correlate hand and facial gestures with certain tones so I don't even have to open my mouth to correct or praise them. I even have two dogs that smile back! They hold me accountable for keeping them busy and active, and can be quite dramatic when I leave in my truck without them. Scooter usually gets the drama award.

Yes, we spend a lot in dog food, care, and time...with so many outdoor jobs, I spend hours and hours each week with the pups, in addition to engaging them in daily physical activity. Imagine loading them all to go to the vet! Five barking dogs in the back of a truck can be overwhelming...we are (in)famous in my truck. The pups even have their own featured photo in the back of my truck on the counter at the feed store! Having yelping dogs pull on your horses' tails and threaten fights with other dogs as we ride can be nerve-racking. A kind-hearted husband who lets all five in on a cold, snowy day can be quite aggravating, especially on clean floors. But I wouldn't trade anything for it! I feel blessed that I have five dogs to love and love me back, eagerly and sweetly greeting me each time I go outside. I feel safe anywhere I go because I know any or all of my five would give their life in a heartbeat for me. They think I'm the greatest person alive and I try not to disappoint them. They observe me and I observe them, and together we have learned from each other. I wish we could all have more similarities with dogs...friendships would not be broken, loyalty would never be doubted, love would be undying, and joy would abound.