I decided to post something completely unrelated to writing. I’ve been in a funk leading up to this week. It’s the first anniversary of my first dog’s death…Logan. Weird mood. I need to cuddle Pepper, who we’ve noticed slowing down quite a bit recently. I have a book signing on the actual date, so I’ll be busy with friends. Thank goodness! So what happened to me this weekend is very relative.
I have a unique specialty. In any kind of weather, I can walk a straight line, pushing a 40 pound hopper and 50 pounds of chalk. This skill set puts me on softball and baseball fields when they’re deserted –okay I’m also in front of crowds who are used to watching the field even when they’re being reset. But Saturday it was early morning…dawn breaking and me listening to John Denver’s WELCOME TO MY MORNING. (Yeah, I did grow up in the 70s listening and singing everything John Denver.)
I was setting the fields early, planning on a mid-morning bike ride with my husband, but we had a change of plans. I saw what I thought was a bag on the first base foul line. I didn’t think too much about it, grocery bags are a constant eyesore.
I got my hopper (that’s the official name for the machine that holds the chalk) and went to the field and got my surprise. Two pups. One black and one white. They were huddled together like a Ying Yang sign. I stepped on the field and the Blacky barked a couple of times. I called, “Here pups,” and they both ran to me sort of sideways like puppies run when they’re happy. They sat, shivered, got closer. I petted them a minute, noticed they were soaked from the sprinklers, then scooped them into my arms. I sat on the bleachers with each pup on a leg. They circled and squirmed so Whitey could rest her head on my arm. Then Blacky rested his paw and head on top of Whitey. Even though he was smaller, he was clearly protecting his sibling. In less than a minute, both fell asleep.
I put them in my supply wagon and left them in the equipment closet. They both woke of course. I put an old shirt and towel in with them, shut the door and set my fields. When I finished, I found them asleep, but warm. And I took them home.
My husband is actually walking Pepper as I type this up, posting FOUND signs around the neighborhood. AFTER he purchased a portable crate and two collars. **grin** Unfortunately, we own a pitbull who only tolerated the lab/retriever who raised her. Pepper is princess in our house after 11 ½ years. She’s mellowed a bit, and hasn’t barked at the pups, and seems completely secure in her domain.
Temporary names? Since I found the pups at the ballpark, we wanted something related. Ball & Strike? Nope. Who & What? Obvious if you’re a WHO’S ON FIRST fan, but no. Rival teams? Hmmm…maybe. Okay, White Sox and Cubs. We finally decided to name them for one the best comedy duo team ever: Bud Abbott and Lou Costello. Bud and Lou kept us laughing.
Sunday Morning: I’ve set 22 softball and baseball fields since Friday morning. My muscles are sore and so is my heart. The pups are gone. Real names…Young & Precious. Collected by their owners. Sadly we discovered they have a brother still missing. I really hope nothing happened to him and that a good-hearted person took them into their home.
I needed to hold two lost pups. Needed to care for them for 24 hours. Needed to smell their puppy breath. I’m glad Bud & Lou were sitting on MY first base. I’ll especially be forever glad that puppy Logan came to our family. The blessings that he brought to us are too many to name. His dedication and unconditional love were examples to live by. Even with his dying breath, closing his eyes, he comforted me because I was crying. Something he always did, no matter how sick he’d become. I’ll miss him and will never ever forget him.