Healing From Lily

Lily was one of those rare pets (fur babies) that strikes a chord in your heart that you never forget. She is one that you honestly hope that when you get to heaven, she is standing there wagging her tail and glad to see you. 

The day we were forced to say "goodbye" to our baby (who had contracted inoperable cancer), we were truly devastated. My wife and I cried on the trip home from the Vet's office and cried still more in the days that followed.

This baby had so much personality. She was very loving but fiercely loyal. Lily is missed terribly. 

We received our Lily back in a beautiful wooden box with her name on the front, and today she rests in a glass case beneath our big screen television in the living room. 

In the months that followed, I scoured the Internet seeking breeders to replace our beloved Lily. Then my wife suggested that we "rescue" another fur baby. How in the world are we going to find a rescue Australian Blue Heeler? I began thinking this was going to be an impossible task. The closest breeder I could find was in Montana, and we live in Iowa. This particular breeder was not just in Montana but literally 20-miles from the Canadian border. In addition, they wanted $1,000 for the female that had Lily's markings. This would take nearly a week off work and several thousand dollars to obtain our Lily replacement. All of a sudden, a rescue wasn't such a bad idea. 

Besides, had I gone to Montana, I would have spent the next ten-plus years "comparing" this pup to Lily, and that would not have been fair to either dog. I decided that the previous 14-years with Lily should remain Lily and not a comparison situation. So, off to the Internet again, this time in search of a rescue heeler. And wouldn't you know, cha-ching, we found one in Odessa, Texas.

"Hey honey, come look, I found a beautiful year and half old female in Odessa, and she looks just like Lily!" Sonya and I studied the photo, and then I sent a message to the lady that ran the rescue out in West Texas. Almost immediately, I heard back from her with the terms and conditions and such for adoption. Yes, we had a yard; she would have fresh water, good food, Vet care, etc., etc... Yes, we have one other dog which she said "CC" would get along great.

Let me pause here and explain, "Annie." Annie is a 15-pound Bichon who is 14-years-old, finicky, and rules the roost as it were. She was the Alpha to Lily, and our home says "yes-ma'am and no ma'am" to Miss Annie. Annie sleeps in bed with us and whines incessantly. God help me if I ever get another Bichon. But the truth is, we love her dearly, and I will probably be buried with her when she crosses the rainbow bridge. 

The plans are made, the Jeep is loaded, and we begin heading out of Iowa on Interstate 35 for Texas to adopt our newest member of our family. 

Somewhere about an hour North of Kansas City, Missouri, the phone rings. "Ken, Ken, you gotta help me." "What?" It was our lady in Odessa. Apparently, she had adopted out a Border Collie crossbred with a Blue Heeler to someone in Denver, Colorado. This adoptee dropped the dog at a rescue center in Denver. They scanned her, found the chip in her ear, read it, and called the Odessa lady.

I'm a sucker for a sad tale, and after hearing the story of "Daphne," we turned right on Interstate 70 to head out west to Denver, Colorado. After some calculations, I thought, "Oh my, I am driving 1,000 miles out of route to save somebody else's dog and take her to Odessa." How stupid am I? Maybe I can get a skateboard in heaven was my next thought. 

Daphne is one of those pups you fall instantly in love with. She is so sweet, loves to lick your face, is obedient, and she doesn't even need a leash as she walks right beside you. She plays fetch and jumps 6-feet in the air to catch her tennis ball. It was instantly bonding with this dog. 

Now, the discussion came up, let's turn around and head back to Iowa with Daphne, but it would have been the wrong thing to do, so we mustered on toward Odessa. Upon arrival, Daphne wasn't much interested in the lady who once had her. She wouldn't get out of the Jeep. She wanted no part of this shelter. So I offered to pay for her, plus CC. As a side note, CC got her name because it is short for "Cookies and Cream" ice cream, which she looks exactly like. But this ain't no Blue Heeler! She has to be a cross between a Whippet and something, but she is definitely not a Blue Heeler. However, the jumping, kisses, and puppy dog begging did the trick. 

As it turns out, we pulled out of her driveway with two dogs, both of which were not Blue Heelers, and neither of which we ended up paying adoption fees for. However, they did cost over $1,000 in travel expenses. 

Upon arrival at home, Annie decided that she would not unlock the door for these two interlopers into her world. Ultimately she has accepted them, and now we have three babies to care for. My wife is not that happy as she now has to fry ground beef for three in lieu of two, and they go through nearly an entire boiled chicken daily. Both dogs have put on weight and look beautiful, and poor little CC has filled out and no longer appears to be a Whippet. 

In the end, both pups are loving, are adapting to their "forever home," and we love them. Some things don't start out normally but end up being for the best. Welcome home, CC and Daphne. 

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