So here we are in the merry month of May and I am counting my blessings again. Big Congratulations go out to Erica and Murat Avci, who proved that office romances can have happy endings. Five years ago, when Murat first saw Erica at Import One, he thought, “That’s a good looking woman,” but he wanted to keep things at a respectful distance because it was after all, their place of work. A year later, her quiet charm had piqued his interest and he had to ask her out. Well, nobody has ever accused “Mr” Murat of making hasty decisions. Four more years passed before he finally proposed. Then it seemed like he couldn’t marry her fast enough! Congratulations and the best of everything to both of them!
As I predicted, all is right with my sister, my son and my mom. Of course, mom was the hardest nut to crack and she hasn’t caught on that my life is literally, if not an open book, certainly an open magazine. My husband returned from Uruguay, read the column and drily remarked, “Gee, I’m sorry I missed all the fun.” You know you are married to a good man when he leaves the house one day to play tennis and there are 3 dogs and he returns to find 5.
And all he asked as he gently picked up a blind, arthritic, 10 year old dog was “Hey, old man. How long are you staying?” If men only knew what suckers women are for that kind of behavior, they’d all be volunteering at CAAWS in a heartbeat.
So, we had Bambi who was adopted to a perfect home in a millisecond and Milo, who went to his long term foster home in Alabama. The Bambina was one of the lucky ones. She was loved. Her owners just didn’t realize what they were getting into when they brought a puppy into their household without realizing the amount of energy a puppy required. The lady of the house had back surgery and was very sedentary. After a few months the inquisitive, [hyper] active puppy was driving them crazy.
She wasn’t hyperactive at all. She was a normal puppy. At our house she was a double edged sword. Pandora who had been our Energizer Bunny, wearing us out at night was suddenly exhausted by 10 PM. She had a playmate. Paris who had been Pandora’s buddy was suddenly out of the loop and sulked. Tango tried to pretend she wasn’t here but basically we had a pee-fest the first two days. Even though Pandora and Bambi played non-stop, my fur[less] kids never allowed her to sleep with them. She wasn’t part of the pack. And Bambi, oblivious to the snub, simply curled up in the space behind my legs. She was used to being an only child, part of a human pack. Life for her was perfect.
Milo came to us through under less auspicious means. A woman in Lafayette who does Chihuahua rescue saw him and at animal control. Yep, he was scheduled to be euthanized and so she pulled him when she picked up the dogs she was fostering and re-homing. His name at the pound was Long Pong. He was about 10 years old and blind. Otherwise he was a beautiful Palomino hairless intact male Chinese Crested. The angel in Lafayette contacted my breed rescue group and after a few missed calls, Wu-Wu was in my truck. Well, he didn’t hear Wu-Wu very well because it’s a low pitch. He responded to Milo though and wagged his tail when we used it, so Milo it was.
This dog was picked up as a sick stray during the coldest days we had in mid-March. Somebody had dumped him. I can’t even imagine what he went through on the streets - fevered, arthritic, cold, old and blind. But the lady in Lafayette found it in her heart to take him and nurse him back to health. And after a tearful goodbye in front of the Shoney’s on Airline, they said goodbye. She had him 2 weeks. His resilience was amazing. Within a few days at our house, he was finding his way around and trying his very hardest to fit into the pack. Again, our dogs weren’t having any. Even our mild mannered tango was showing his disapproval to the new intruder. And this guy was definitely different - so while they kept a respectful demeanor, they didn’t go out of their way to include him in anything- and all this guy wanted desperately was a pack of his own. He would try to lie next to them for skin to skin contact and warmth and my dogs would simply growl, leave and pile up somewhere else. But every once in a while when I would force them to stay and let him sleep next to them, the sigh of contentment coming out of his little body would have brought tears to your eyes.
I never worried about the Bambina getting adopted. Dogs like her- AKC registered, fully vetted, potty trained, no emotional baggage and young are easier to re-home. Everyone wants a dog like her. A couple in Arkansas adopted her sight unseen and they were perfect for her and she for them and I was happy for her and never shed a tear. Somehow, I never got attached to La Bambina.
But a dog like Milo is a different story. Milo was a perfect houseguest. He was a gentleman and in spite of all he went through he was still affectionate and trusting. The first day, he was naturally shy and I had to hand-feed him. Because he was blind he kept his head down and he would walk along the walls and furniture to feel his way to the end. His tail was tucked tightly but still he came and accepted our efforts. The second day, he tentatively wagged his tail and my heart leapt. Even though he was blind, he attempted to keep up as much as he could. Milo is a beautiful, gentle purebred Palomino hairless with perfect skin and [like many Cresties] few teeth. He seemed to shiver in delight when I put a collar and T-Shirt on him. I have discovered that most dogs accept this decoration as a medal of achievement and a symbol of inclusion so my fosters get collars and St. Francis medals as soon as they get here. Milo had a rabies tag and a micro chip tag as well, so he carried the same rank as the natives. He made a real effort to fit in and yet even at my house, he couldn’t stay - at least not right now.
My house is very active for a slightly handicapped retired senior. Pandora and Paris move too fast and ottomans, shoes, dog beds and sometimes walls mysteriously seem to relocate during the night -not the best environment for an older gentleman who is trying to learn his way around. One day after watching him bump tentatively into wall after wall, Hector said, “He needs a helmet.” We laughed but really, I was ready to put an E collar on him to protect his head. We had to show him his food and almost force his face into the dish. His aim wasn’t always good and some days he stepped into the water bowl before he found it. He blithely walked under our parked SUVs and through lawn equipment like Mr. Magoo and we marveled at his grace (or maybe it was luck) in spite of his handicaps.
He slept in a crate but every morning when I took him out and we would all return back to bed, I would let him climb into bed with us and snuggle with the pack. Some dogs will turn and twist to find the perfect spot. Not Milo. He would just jump in and unceremoniously plop down and let you rearrange him to suit you. He was just grateful for the contact. The woman that is fostering him now has 2 older females and I am hoping that Milo is happy now in his own senior harem, but I told her, if it doesn’t work out for her and he is still there in a year, when my kids are a little older, he is welcome back any time and he’ll never have to go anywhere else again. The whole time he was here I kept thinking of how we tend to treat old people here-disposable, replaceable as if they have little value - when in truth, often their life experiences have nurtured in them a much greater capacity for love than we care to acknowledge. I miss Milo.
On a really sad note, the city as we know it, is irrevocably changing. This is the last month for one of Baton Rouge’s greatest baby boomer landmarks. As of the 31st of the month Southdowns – the place that holds an entire city’s memories- will be no more. As Pat Hudson wrote in an e-mail, “If you lived in South Baton Rouge it was your home away from home... Where else would you go for Halloween? It was the place to meet up before an LSU game and the place to finish the night out. If the walls could talk, we’d all be in trouble. [Yes, even me]... Great first dates, horrible last ones and Rodney and Doug who are always glad to see you no matter how busy they were.”
Even though my bar-hopping days are long over, I am going to make a point of going back one last time this month - and reliving one last Purple Haze induced fog. Maybe I’ll see you there. Until next month, that’s livin’ in the Redstick.