We have two more to add to the Menagerie page! One has actually been with the family for, oh, a year or so, but mom is just getting around to admitting it. The other is a fairly recent newcomer that took much less convincing for mom to welcome home.
So Annie was a rescue, as they all are. Mom and Sue picked her up on Hopewell Church Road. She didn’t have any tags but she was clearly in good health and well cared for. So mom took her in as a foster.
“Oh, you got a new dog?” I said.
It went on like that for months.
Because John was a bit old and fragile and Annie was the complete opposite, she had to stay in the crate when she was inside and didn’t get a whole lot of personal attention. Mom did try taking her to the barn with her for exercise.. but one too many “goose incidents” and Annie was banned from the barn. Efforts to find her original owners in the meantime were a complete failure. It appeared she had been purposefully abandoned.
So mom sent her to doggie boarding school. It’s the wildest thing. It’s like 24/7 behavioral school for dogs and the parents come on the weekends to learn all about the dogs’ new tricks and how to communicate with them.
Annie is, in my limited experience with her, better. A bit. Except her name has been changed to Pistol Annie, so…
Since John passed away, Annie has gotten full house privileges, more attention, more exercise, AND she’s even allowed back at the barn.
And yes, mom has finally admitted that she owns a coon hound. (She’s going on the Menagerie page, Ma! There’s no going back now.)
So now let’s talk about…Friendly!
Friendly showed up in June, and he just wanted to hang out. He got his name because, well, he was just so gosh darn friendly! Mom fed him, made a bed for him in the garage at night, but he left after a week or so. Unbeknownst to me.
Two weekends ago I went home to for some “continuing education and research” at Poplar Place. I rolled into the driveway in my sweet rental, parked, and started unloading. Having the feeling I was being watched, I looked up and there is a little orange cat studying me very intently. As soon as we made eye contact, he started scooting the opposite direction. I called to him, he turned around, and I knew instantly who it was.
“Oh, your Friendly!”
“Why yes, yes I am friendly!” he seemed to say as he trotted over for cuddles.
I was unloading my bags inside when mom screeches into the house, “Friendly’s here! Friendly’s here!”
“Oh yea, he met me when I drove up.”
Once again, I hadn’t known he’d disappeared since June. Mom had all but given up on him. So she put some food down, cracked the garage door, made his bed (which he instantly parked out on), and she contemplated taking him to get fixed.
But see, Friendly looked great. He didn’t look like a stray. He looked like an indoor/outdoor cat that likes to visit friendly neighbors that feed him. And maybe, that smart cat has been spending the summer time indoors in the AC.
“Well I’ve asked around. No one seems to know him,” mom insisted.
I asked if she had spoken to more than just the immediate neighbors. I think her response was, “want another beer?”
In the end she decided to take Friendly to the vet’s to get fixed at the very least. And when I promised I wouldn’t make fun of her for “another failed foster” she very quickly made plans to integrate him into the family inside, a task which has apparently gone off without a hitch.
So there you have it. The menagerie grows.