Shady’s first tale: his name was “LoJack”

Shady’s first tale: his name was “LoJack”

January 17, 2010, 9:25 pm
Filed under: animal rescue, pet loss | Tags: animal rescue, companion animals, dog, dogs, homeless animals, labrador, pet adoption, pets, shady, shadytales

I am the newest and rarest designer breed of all dogs…a “blogdog”.  Well, okay, I am actually an 8 year old Labrador.  My blog is not really about me though; it is a spotlight for many formerly homeless dogs and cats.  My family has always tried to help shelter pets get a fair chance, including over a year spent documenting their stories for small features in the local papers and working adoption events.  Those stories are the basis of my “tales” and this is my very first one… 

You may be wondering what shelter I came from.  The truth is, I came from the mall.  A little pet store right by the parking garage. I was a meant to be a playmate and adopted sister to a very active then-4 year old Labrador named Nikki. Shortly after I came to live here our vet explained to Mom where I really came from.  A place called a puppy mill.  Once she became more aware of these places and in turn the overwhelming shelter populations she knew she wanted to help. 

She found many different ways to do that, but we can talk about that another time.  Today I want to talk about our own personal success story.  His name was LoJack, and although we lost him to cancer this past summer there is no question that adopting him into our already over-dog-populated home was a much better deal for us than him. 

A little over four years ago, Mom was volunteering with several rescue groups.  A lot of times she got to meet and spend time with the homeless dogs, but she managed to avoid getting too attached and coming home with any of them in tow since our house was already a little crowded. Then one day she got a call about LoJack from a volunteer in a high volume shelter. Pat, the volunteer, remembered Mom had a “thing” about Labradors (can you blame her?  We are awesome.) and told her about a senior Lab mix fellow that was dumped there and did not have much time.  He really was dumped too, not “surrendered” but not quite stray either.  LoJack’s then-family showed up with him and two other dogs and acted like she wanted to surrender all of them properly. When the Pat stepped away to get the forms, his Mom took off with the other two dogs.  She left behind only LoJack and all they knew about him was his name.  

Soon it became clear why perhaps the other two got another chance…he had a tumor the size of an orange protruding from his chest.   Maybe that was her warped way of trying to get him help—who knows how some crazy humans might think that would work out?  Pat had the tumor checked by the vet and was told it was nothing serious.  In the time Pat spent with LoJack she saw that he  was very soft spoken and well behaved and just the kind of dog that would not fare well in her shelter.  Being an older, wiser dog he still clearly expected that his family was coming back for him. Why wouldn’t they, right? These kind of dogs have it the worst in those little shelter cages.  They are patient and calm but it can look to others like old and sick and prospective adopters would likely pass right over him.  He’d be on the short list to a very unhappy and undeserved ending just as soon as they needed the kennel space for a younger dog. LoJack never liked to talk much about it but I suspect Pat was right. 

LoJack

Pat asked my Mom to take LoJack in him in while he recovered from having that tumor removed so he could avoid “checking in” at the shelter a little longer.  Mom agreed, on Pat’s say-so that this dog was special and really would get along with all of us.  When Mom went to pick him up she knew Pat had been telling the truth.  From day one LoJack did all kinds of neat tricks my Mom was not used seeing from me or Nikki. He didn’t drag her around on the leash or push ahead of her when walking through a door or on stairs. He sat up and rode nicely in the car, not even trying to slobber on the windows or jump in the front seat. He let her eat her meals in peace without begging or trying to steal.  He slept late and woke her nicely without clawing her for breakfast as if he had not eaten in days.  LoJack never barked much either, he just sat patiently at the door, the bowl, or wherever, always trusting somebody would get to him and his needs eventually.

Do you know what else he did? He came when she called him, on the first call. I have been to, like, two expensive dog trainers and obedience classes and still never saw any point in that. Mom never had a dog or a friend these days for that matter that was so interested in spending time with her that he’d just drop everything and do that.  It didn’t matter about that soon though because she rarely had any need to call him after a while.  He lived up to his name and became a Mom tracking device. 

Along the way we figured out that LoJack had trouble with is liver.  After a few weeks on some supplements he was like a new dog…still doing all the tricks I described above but now he had the energy to follow Mom everywhere.  His coat grew shiny and full and his form filled out quite a bit, so much so that Dad wanted to change his name to “Tank“.  He’d barrel through the house like a great big puppy, always stopping short just in time even when you felt sure he’d plow you (or the table, the lamp, a guest, whatever) down.

LoJack was always at Mom’s side after that and with his big thick tail wagging about a hundred miles an hour about it. It was pretty clear after just two “adoption events” that we were the only ones who were gonna do any of the adopting. We knew almost nothing about him, not even his real age, but LoJack was here to stay.   

During his time with us he was the only one who got to do much visiting with her (hey, it is not my fault I am a submissive pee-er! Can I help it if all her friends have carpeting and they don’t it want ruined? Excuuuusssee me!). When she started working later, he got to go to the office with her. He had to go to the vet a lot too, he always had some minor but totally weird things going on where she’d have to nurse him back…more lumps to be removed, a recurring foot infection, ear infections, some skin issues and of course the cancer in his mouth that finally took him from us.  Each time he’d come back with a bandage or that goofy collar that looks like a funnel and they got a little closer each time.

LoJack never complained about any of it and he spent a lot of time trying to watch out for her too, as best he could.  If she was sick or even just resting, he’d stand guard outside the door to make sure no one bothered her.  As a matter of fact, he sat intently by any closed door if he knew she was on the other side of it. When she went out without him, he’d be in the window waiting practically the whole time she was gone. He stayed in the kitchen to keep her company while she cooked and afterward for clean up when the rest of us wandered off to play or sleep or watch tv.  I used to catch her singing (God help us all) to him all the time too.  She’d change the words to most any song to suit him, but my favorite was to the tune of “Copacabana”.  ”His name was LoJack, he was a showdog…”.

He went to bed with her every night no matter how early or late it was. When Mom was done for the night, LoJack was done for the night and the ritual of pills would begin. He took 6 in all and each was offered one by one from her hand. LoJack accepted them dutifully, as if he was doing it solely to please her and not because he needed them.  When it was over, he’d get comfortable on the floor by her side in a dog bed and he did not wake during the night her trying to jump on and off the people bed or running in and out all night long on his own schedule like I prefer to do.  Mom always said her good nights to LoJack last and a good morning to him first.  For a dog to be given a chance to age gracefully like LoJack was and for us to be rewarded with the love and companionship he gave us is the ultimate success story.  

Nikki and I have always been pretty secure in our place here.  We never really got jealous of the old guy. He made Mom very happy and that was a good thing for the whole family. As was his way, LoJack even made his final illness as painless for all of us as possible (that is a story for another blog).  Losing him was a terrible blow but there is doubt that LoJack took care of all of us all to the very end. Even more recently we lost 12 year old Nikki too.  I am an only dog now for the first time ever. I miss them both a lot and was not sure Mom would be able to handle going through with Nikki what she had to for LoJack again so soon.  I now know that one of the many the insights a person gains from this whole human-dog bonding thing is that you are somehow given the wisdom to know when it is time to let go.

For me as a dog I can trust her to do what is best for me for me if I get that ill, but I am not going anywhere anytime soon. I have all of Mom’s her notes and old photos out and am working hard on these blogs.  This is my way of working through the grief and getting ready, because sometime soon, the next needy little face out there will surely find us and we will open our home again for another pet to live and love here. 

 

31 Comments

31 Comments so far
Leave a comment

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI