By Sally Kelly-Engeman
A daughter is a gift of love.
~Author Unknown
My husband, Jim, and I were enjoying a quiet evening and planning a Caribbean cruise when our phone rang.
"Hi Mom. I've got a little problem."
A daughter is a gift of love.
~Author Unknown
My husband, Jim, and I were enjoying a quiet evening and planning a Caribbean cruise when our phone rang.
"Hi Mom. I've got a little problem."
Flattered that Kathy, our animal-loving elder daughter, still valued my advice I listened. "That dog I rescued several weeks ago is very loveable, but she's too hyper for our other dog. I've decided that with Dad traveling so much and us kids gone, you need a pet to keep you company. She'd love running around your huge fenced backyard."
Caught unprepared, I swallowed a sigh. How could I tell my elder daughter that I relished my quiet time without hurting her feelings? "Dad's right here. Why don't you talk to him?" Like any sensible wife, I passed the phone to her father.
While they chatted, I recalled how Kathy and her husband had gone to a Seattle restaurant several weeks earlier. While dining, they noticed a small dog shivering in the rain as it wandered outside in the parking lot. When Kathy mentioned it to the server, he said that someone abandoned the puppy a week earlier. Restaurant employees had been feeding her, but none could give her a home.
After dining, Kathy took a box of leftovers and fed them to the dog in the parking lot. By the time she reached her car, the dog had devoured the food and followed her. When Kathy opened her door, the dog jumped inside.
Rain continued to fall so Kathy talked her husband into stopping at the veterinary clinic on the way home. After Kathy explained the circumstances to the vet, he examined the dog and commented that the puppy was a rare Sheltie-Basenji mix and in good condition except for cigarette burns in several places on her body. Unable to let the abused dog go homeless any longer, Kathy adopted her.
She named the dog Jet because she soared like the jet airplanes Kathy flew regularly as a flight attendant. Now, it seemed that Jet was too flighty for Kathy's other dog. One of them had to go. So what did Kathy do? She did what every clever daughter does when she has a problem. She called her parents.
I should have known better than to let her talk to Jim. He always was a pushover for his daughter's requests. He agreed that we'd adopt Jet.
A few days later, Kathy called and advised us that she had followed her vet's suggestions and given Jet a sedative, put her in a traveling kennel and boarded her on a plane. Jet would be arriving in Denver in a few hours.
We drove to the airport and as soon as I saw the small orange puppy, with the white blaze on her forehead and white-socked feet, huddled in her travel kennel, I melted. Jet resembled a little fox and looked at me with frightened brown eyes when I opened the kennel door. Shivering, she staggered out and collapsed at my feet. When I picked her up and gently stroked her soft fur, she licked my fingers and snuggled in my arms.
For the first week, she avoided Jim whenever he had a cigarette in his hand. As days passed, she became more comfortable with us. My husband's gentle ways soon won her over. She greeted him at the door when he returned from work each day, "helped" him with yard work, and slept at his feet when he read the newspapers or watched TV.
I soon learned that Basenjis were often royal dogs of Egyptian pharaohs. They don't bark, but Jet's Sheltie genes did, so she was a great watchdog. In keeping with her royal status, we let her sleep on a bed in a spare bedroom, but otherwise, she wasn't allowed on any of our other furniture.
Some mornings, I awoke to find her asleep on the floor beside my side of the bed. She became my shadow and stayed close whether at home or on our daily walks. As days passed, she played out in our backyard, calmed down and became a very affectionate and disciplined dog. She kept off the furniture and responded when called. She even walked regally as we strolled our neighborhood, where curious people frequently asked if she was a pet fox.
One cold winter night, months later, while Jim was out of town on a business trip, Jet and I went to our respective beds while winds wailed and slapped snow against our windows in below-zero weather.
I fell into a deep sleep quickly. It was still dark when I heard Jet whine and felt her paw rub my shoulder.
"What are you doing on my bed?" I grumbled. Winds were still howling and I was in no mood to take her outside in that weather. When she continued to whine, I sat up and quickly realized the house was too hot. Something was wrong with the furnace!
With Jet at my heels, I raced to the furnace room. Fortunately, I remembered Jim's instructions on what to do if this very event happened. Had Jet not awoken me, the overheated boiler might have exploded and damaged our home. Jet had saved my life!
After that, Jet seemed to know that she had earned special privileges. She waited until we were asleep, crept up on our bed, curled against Jim and pressed her paws against my back. Sometimes she even pushed me out of bed.
What could I do? Royalty demanded royal treatment.
http://www.chickensoup.comCaught unprepared, I swallowed a sigh. How could I tell my elder daughter that I relished my quiet time without hurting her feelings? "Dad's right here. Why don't you talk to him?" Like any sensible wife, I passed the phone to her father.
While they chatted, I recalled how Kathy and her husband had gone to a Seattle restaurant several weeks earlier. While dining, they noticed a small dog shivering in the rain as it wandered outside in the parking lot. When Kathy mentioned it to the server, he said that someone abandoned the puppy a week earlier. Restaurant employees had been feeding her, but none could give her a home.
After dining, Kathy took a box of leftovers and fed them to the dog in the parking lot. By the time she reached her car, the dog had devoured the food and followed her. When Kathy opened her door, the dog jumped inside.
Rain continued to fall so Kathy talked her husband into stopping at the veterinary clinic on the way home. After Kathy explained the circumstances to the vet, he examined the dog and commented that the puppy was a rare Sheltie-Basenji mix and in good condition except for cigarette burns in several places on her body. Unable to let the abused dog go homeless any longer, Kathy adopted her.
She named the dog Jet because she soared like the jet airplanes Kathy flew regularly as a flight attendant. Now, it seemed that Jet was too flighty for Kathy's other dog. One of them had to go. So what did Kathy do? She did what every clever daughter does when she has a problem. She called her parents.
I should have known better than to let her talk to Jim. He always was a pushover for his daughter's requests. He agreed that we'd adopt Jet.
A few days later, Kathy called and advised us that she had followed her vet's suggestions and given Jet a sedative, put her in a traveling kennel and boarded her on a plane. Jet would be arriving in Denver in a few hours.
We drove to the airport and as soon as I saw the small orange puppy, with the white blaze on her forehead and white-socked feet, huddled in her travel kennel, I melted. Jet resembled a little fox and looked at me with frightened brown eyes when I opened the kennel door. Shivering, she staggered out and collapsed at my feet. When I picked her up and gently stroked her soft fur, she licked my fingers and snuggled in my arms.
For the first week, she avoided Jim whenever he had a cigarette in his hand. As days passed, she became more comfortable with us. My husband's gentle ways soon won her over. She greeted him at the door when he returned from work each day, "helped" him with yard work, and slept at his feet when he read the newspapers or watched TV.
I soon learned that Basenjis were often royal dogs of Egyptian pharaohs. They don't bark, but Jet's Sheltie genes did, so she was a great watchdog. In keeping with her royal status, we let her sleep on a bed in a spare bedroom, but otherwise, she wasn't allowed on any of our other furniture.
Some mornings, I awoke to find her asleep on the floor beside my side of the bed. She became my shadow and stayed close whether at home or on our daily walks. As days passed, she played out in our backyard, calmed down and became a very affectionate and disciplined dog. She kept off the furniture and responded when called. She even walked regally as we strolled our neighborhood, where curious people frequently asked if she was a pet fox.
One cold winter night, months later, while Jim was out of town on a business trip, Jet and I went to our respective beds while winds wailed and slapped snow against our windows in below-zero weather.
I fell into a deep sleep quickly. It was still dark when I heard Jet whine and felt her paw rub my shoulder.
"What are you doing on my bed?" I grumbled. Winds were still howling and I was in no mood to take her outside in that weather. When she continued to whine, I sat up and quickly realized the house was too hot. Something was wrong with the furnace!
With Jet at my heels, I raced to the furnace room. Fortunately, I remembered Jim's instructions on what to do if this very event happened. Had Jet not awoken me, the overheated boiler might have exploded and damaged our home. Jet had saved my life!
After that, Jet seemed to know that she had earned special privileges. She waited until we were asleep, crept up on our bed, curled against Jim and pressed her paws against my back. Sometimes she even pushed me out of bed.
What could I do? Royalty demanded royal treatment.
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