Day 252
Sunday January 25th
Lucy!
(Parte Dos)
I could barely sleep all night. Waiting to get Lucy was kind of like how I imagine a 6 year old views waiting for Santa but with a little more passive aggressiveness. Every few hours I would wake up to check the clock. As soon as the sun climbed above the mountains I was ready to go. I was super excited for the day to begin. I was also in an odd mood which added to the excitement. I was a little ticked off by the delay. It was really eating at me that poor little Lucy was stuck out on the cement patio for another cold night in the rain. The only thing keeping us from grabbing her immediately and taking her home was stupid politeness.
Because we simply "couldn't" run over there and rescue her, she was left to wither one last rain soaked night as best she could. This whole political correctness of what is an accepted norm and process really irked me. Because we didn't want to upset the owner (who bloody abandoned her in the first place by the way-- how on earth were we expected to respect a man who does that?) and jeopardize the adoption our hands were tied. We were forced to wait one more day. Man it was definitely an exercise in patience and self-control. There were many times on the walk over I had to rationalize my way around not punching the owner square in the face and chain him up in Lucy's place to see how he would like it. Granted I abstained, though it was a temptation to say the least.
As soon as it was noon we grouped up and headed over. I was anxious to see how Lucy weathered the night's storm. I was also a little on edge with her owner her had bailed on us the day before. Lucy was in her usual spot, the hole in the fence squirming and wiggling as soon as we rounded the block. It didn't look like the wet miserable night affected her spirits at all. If only us humans could be so laissez-faire about our own trials and tribulations! We could learn a lot from this dog I think. By the time we got up to the fence Lucy had worked herself into a goofy little tizzy. She would push her square head through the fence and wiggle wiggle wiggle. Then she would get so excited she would run laps around the old abandoned car in the driveway. Then right back to the whole in the fence to squirm and lick some more!
We waited and waited hanging with Lucy on one side of the fence and us on the other. Finally we bumped into a gentleman who was moving in to one of the lower units in Lucy's owner's rental house. He offered to call the owner and see what the delay was. With a little luck we were able to get the owner on the phone and he was heading right over. After the phone call the lady that had helped facilitate this entire thing came on out. She gave us a leash and let us take Lucy out from behind the fence to say hello in closer fashion. It was great. That crazy pupper could barely contain her excitement as we brought her out onto the front lawn to wait for the owner's arrival. At first Lucy was a little hyper and perplexed as to why she was on the leash but not going for a walk. After about 20 minutes though she relaxed and was happy just to be around people on the other side of the fence.
After an hour or so the owner finally showed up. I probably should not judge and give him the benefit of the doubt. I probably should. Honest to goodness I tried. I did. I gave it the good ole' college try and then some. When the owner stepped out of the car he walked over to us crisply. There were no hand shakes or salutations. There were no introductions or pleasantries. He walked over and immediately barked out "Hey that's not Lucy's leash. That's my leash. You can't take my leash. You are gonna have to give it back." Douche bag said my brain, face meet fist said my knuckles. Okay okay it didn't quite happen like that. I certainly didn't sock the guy though I did have one of those Alley McBeal breaks from reality where I imagined doing it (and it felt GREAT!). Actually despite his crass remark about the leash things went pretty quick and really well. After a quick chat to get as much info as possible on her background, medical history, and demeanor we were done. Lucy was finally coming home with us.
We took she and Kaya for a quick walk and then let them loose in the back yard. It was great! We let the various dogs-- four now-- get accustomed to each other for a bit in the back yard. Kaya introduced Lucy to the proper way to play tug-o'-war, Sadie showed her where to properly poop, and good ole' Tank showed her his lip stick. Then he tried unsuccessfully to put it in her ear. (Note to self: That has to stop!) A quick bath took three of us to hold her down and scrub her up and left her looking great but the three of us bedraggled, soaked, scratched, and out of breath. After that it was off to the beach and the rest they say is history-- or will be shortly...
"You gonna pet me or what camera boy?"
Lucy was locked out on this patio competing for concrete with a rusted out Plymouth Fury. The entire space was covered in poop. All in all it didn't look all too fun.
Bick & Sara made it a point to visit a couple times a day. Sometimes Lucy would be around, sometimes she wouldn't. We never did figure out where she would disappear to. When she was around she was pretty hard to miss. Her smooshed little nose and pancake of a tongue would be wiggling and dancing in the hole in the fence.
Lucy loves nothing more then hugging and licking, licking and hugging. When we finally were able to get her on the freedom side of the fence she wasted no time with formal introductions!
We took her for a short walk and then introduced her to the back yard and her new home. She was abso-frikin-lutely mystified by the hose! She could not get enough.
Tug of war with the whole crew: (L to R) Tank in white, the ummm "man" of the house; Sadie the Golden; Lucy; Kaya showing everyone how a proper Boxer tug-o-war should be.
Fetch. Lucy had no interest whatsoever in chasing a stick we kept throwing. She was happy just tagging a long w/ her new big sis.
Prelude to a nap in the sunshine. Man it must be nice to be a d-o-g!
Rub a dub dub diggity doggy.
After 3+ months of being outdoors in all the elements and laying around in her own poop Lucy's coat was in rough shape. After every visit our hands and forearms would be caked with black dingy pupper grime. We were amazed at how sharp she looked after just the first washing. The caramel coat and the golden highlights really jumped out. It was like one of those goofy make-overs you see on Oprah but for the pupper!
"Yo camera boy, a little help here bro'?"
The collar alone tells its own tale of abuse and neglect. Made out of the same fabric and weave as a seat belt, it is pretty dang hard to destroy these things. After months of squeezing her square head through the hole in the fence, Lucy's collar was worn thin. The color had faded to a pretty pathetic version of pink from day after day of lounging in the sun with no where else to go. When the light caught it right, it looked like she had a fuzzy pink mane.
"Come on pops, I'm cwean & I pwomise to never ever be dirty again. Just put the hose away, pwease."
Lucy is done and its Bick's turn for a bath says the pupper-- hey fair is fair right.
All clean and super stoked to be in the truck for a ride to la playa! Now that she is all clean maybe there is a dead seal washed up on the beach she can roll in! Boy does she love that, especially after a bath...
Day 251
Saturday January 24th
Lucy!
Parte Uno
About two weeks ago now my roommate Aaron approached me with a question. He and Sara wanted to rescue another Boxer. I was totally down, no need to explain further. Sara had been taking their Boxer Kaya on her afternoon walk the past few weeks and had made friends with this other Boxer Lucy. Every time Sara would walk by with Kaya Lucy would squish her face through this missing slot in her fence and watch enthusiastically. After a few days Sara brough Kaya up the drive way and introduced the two. Kaya and Lucy seemed to hit it off well right from the beginning. From that point on sara always made it a point to stop by and say hello through the fence to Lucy.
On one such afternoon a lady who rented the upper floor of the house approached Sara. She asked if Sara knew anyone who was looking for a dog. It turns out the land lord of the house had simply left Lucy there about three or four months prior. The land lords' girl friend was afraid of Lucy and she had to go the story went. Apparently the land lord had three or so other bxers, much larger, male and much more aggressive. The aplha male boxer attacked Lucy over food one day. The land lord's girl friend was bitten by the male trying to break up the fight. Because the land lord was so attached to the male it was Lucy who go the boot. She had been penned up in the cement driving ever since.
Once Sara learned of Lucy's plight she shared the story with Bick and the ball went rolling along. It took a few weeks to iron everything out. In the interim Sara and Bick continued to visit Lucy a few times each day. We would bring her treats and just hang out. It was heart breaking meeting this loveable pupper. She shared the cement drive with an equally hard-luck Plymouth Fury vintage 1961. She basically had one tiny strip of cement along the rear of the hunk and one long narrow strip along the side of the rus bucket Fury to call her own. The entire place was covered in dog poo. The smell was quite ummmm interesting. She had only minimal interaction with any other humans other then for Sara & Bick's daily visits. Despite it all she was a ball of joyous excitement every time we visited.
Finally Sara and Bick, through the female tenent of the rental house, made contact with the owner indirectly. He was supposedly agreeable to giving Lucy up. The tenent really went out of her way to facilitate the process. She told us that the owner would be around to fix up the house for a new tenent moving in. We decided to take the initiative and ambush the dude-- of course we gave him fair warning first.
We showed up at the appointed time first thing Saturday morning. We were all giddy with electric energy enthusiastically shooting throughout our bodies. We waited and waited. Hours passed and no sign of the owner. We found a number on Lucy's collar tags and dialed it. No luck. Eventually the female tenent that had been helping us out let us take Lucy for a wlak. It was amazing how well she adapted to the leash. She really walked well! Granted she was so excited she would refuse to actually stop to pee. Instead she would hop along on three legs with the fourth sticking out to the side as she did her business. Crazy pupper! We brought her back to the house after the walk to acclimate her to the other dogs and the back yard.
After a bit we had to bring her back. It was a horrid feeling to have to leave her stuck behind the fence fending off the Fury for a place to lie down. We walked away with our spirits pretty dang low.
For the last few weeks this is how we would interact w/ Lucy-- she on one side fighting to get as much as her body out and us on the other side of the fence trying to keep her from popping her head off. Despite the small slit we had to interact through, she melted everyone's heart in a matter of minutes.
Lucy's infamous tongue, this girl has no problem covering every possible surface of your face with this thing. I've never met a dog that will go through more just to get a could lick in. "Hey no tongue, we just met!"
Sun rise on the soul surfer.
Green Hills (of Earth) dreaming about a classy Channel Islands girl.
