An hour later my wife and three children joined me there. They proceeded to tell me about the yellow pup in the carport. My children were desperate to keep her. They had not had a dog since the old Black lab/coyote mix we had since before any of them were bord had died four years earlier.
I told them that the dog probably belonged to someone in the neighborhood. I couldnt imagine that such a cute pup (yellow lab mix) could possibly be a stray. Besides, it would probably be gone when we got home. I was wrong.
When we got back from church, the puppy was still sitting in the carport and stood to greet us with her tail wag dance. "Dad, please can we keep her", the children rang out in chorus. "No, we dont need a dog" I said remembering the pain of the old Coyote Lab's passing, "and besides... that dog belongs to someone." We went in the door leading into the kitchen. Everytime we looked out, the puppy was looking up into the door with widened expectation in her eyes. The children finally convinced me to let her in the house... just to play with her until someone comes looking for her. When she entered, she did not play but went straight to the oven and sat down, again staring up at it; her little black nose twitching with excitement at the aroma of the ham that was just finishing the baking process. "Oh, that's it", I said to her, "you just want my ham!"
It was if she understood every word. The tail wagging dance began all over again. When the ham went to the table, I told the kids to put the dog back out. After dinner, they went back to the carport and sure enough... the little yellow pup was sitting there. When they opened the door, she entered...no she barged in and went straight to the table, sat and waited, looking from one of us to the other in hopeful expectation of a morsel of the ham of which the aroma permeated the house.
My oldest son promptly gave her a piece which she practically swallowed whole and the tail-wag dance began again. This brought squeals of delight to my kids (ages 9,7 & 5). My wife said, "Let's call her Goldy." "Hold up", I said in protest, "We aren't keeping this dog." "Dad, Please!!!!" the children begged. I finally agreed she could stay until someone came to claim her; which I truly expected at any time. Again my wife called the puppy "Goldy". Groans went up from the kids and from me. Not "Goldy". They raffled off many names and nothing stuck, until my wife said, "Well whatever your name is, you are precious, just precious!!" Precious. That was it. That would be her name, even if temporarily so.
Night came and no one came looking for the puppy which I estimated to be about 6 months old. The children continued playing with her until bed time. I told them it was time to put her back outside. They protested that if someone came looking for her, she might be gone somewhere else. I agreed, so we put her in the basement play room for the night. A day passed, and then two. No one came looking for the pup. A week passed. I checked the paper each day; no one looking for a pup of this description. Finally, the children insisted, "No one is looking for her, please Dad let us keep Precious." I insisted we give it two weeks. Each day Precious became more and more part of our family. I was told that a friend in the neighborhood had gotten a puppy and it had escaped from his yard. He was a Colombian national. I called him and told him about the pup. He said that he would come by and look at the dog to see if was his. In the mean time I began speaking to the dog in Spanish, just in case it belonged to him. I began to call the puppy "Preciosa" and taught her commands and to sit and to dance on her hind legs in the languge.
Pedro came a few days later. The dog was not his; at least that is what he said. I think he just did not want to take the puppy away from the children. If so, I was and remain grateful. The children delighted in her and she them. But even more so, every day when I arrived home Precious delighted in me. She would completely forget the children to come to me, even without me calling her.
After two weeks I finally agreed. Precious could stay. I took her to the vet and did all the things that needed to be done to protect her and us. The vet confirmed the obvious Yellow Lab, but said the dog was too small for a full Yellow Lab. He gathered that she was either beagle, harrier or fox-hound mix along with the Lab. Whatever she was, she was Precious; and thus her name. Somewhere along the way, my oldest son gave her the nickname "Mrs. Puppy". Mrs. Precious Puppy was part of our family, who went on vacations with us, to visit relatives or just to go with me on quiet walks in the neighborhood; or for a ride with me in the car.... just because. Precious grew from a cute puppy to a beautiful "Miniature Yellow Lab" of about 40 pounds; but her puppy like qualities of joy for life never left her. She was my constant companion when I was outdoors.
A few years later, Precious adopted a kitten. Yes, she adopted a small kitten that strayed into our yard. This kitten that we called Fred because my middle child said he walked straddle legged like Fred Sanford, became "our dog's cat". At first he ate from her food bowl and would tease her by climbing in it and would swat at her when she tried to get him out. This teasing did not stop even after we started feeding him catfood separately from her. Precious and Fred would roam the yard together, catch field mice, play together and cuddle together to sleep. We had to have Fred put down after getting hit by a car a couple of years after he arrived. Precious watched and grieved for days afterward waiting for Fred to come home. You could see her staring off to the corner of the yard where Fred came and went on his daily ramblings. Her tail would wag with any movement she saw there.
The stray who never left began to reach middle age and we began to let her stay inside more and more; and not just during extreme weather. She was my constant companion then, both indoors and outdoors. Whereever I would be inside or out, Precious would be at my side.
Just before Halloween 2008 I noticed Precious stumble as she went outside for her morning constitution. I did not think much about it even when we came back inside. I turned and Precious fell at my feet. I kind of laughed, because after all our years together, I knew her silly and playful personality, and it looked as if she were just laying on her back and scratching on the carpet as she was want to do. She got back up and proceeded about her business. That evening my wife called me and told me that Precious had just fallen over sideways. I told her that I had seen her fall over earlier to rub her back on the carpet. My wife told me that it was not the same... she fell over and hit the support post for the upstairs and could not get back up for a moment or two. When I arrived at home, I checked her. She fell again later that evenign. It concerned me, but Precious had always been healthy other than just typical dog stuff a couple of times in her life. I thought maybe it was inner ear trouble. But, to be safe, I would take off the next morning and take her to a vet. She was overdue for a checkup anyway. We had not found a vet since moving the year before. The next morning, Precious fell again; but seemed fine otherwise. She went with me to the car and climbed in eagerly as always as we went to find a veterinarian's office.
That afternoon when I went to pick her up, I was given the news. Precious had contracted a severe case of heartworms. I was told she would probably not survive the treatment. I took her home. I wanted her to go at home with us. The doctors gave her some heart meds to help her stay strong until the time came. It did not work. Precious continued to weaken and by the next week could hardly move. I took her back to the vet. We had to try. We started treatment. Three days later on a Saturday, the vet gave me the news over the phone. Kidney function had ceased and liver and pancreatic function was not going to be far behind.
"It's time to put her down isn't it", I said more as a statement than a question. She agreed. I, my wife, and the two children still at home went to say goodbye.
Nine years have passed since a stray pup came to my house for a ham dinner and never left it until a few days ago for a final time. In those years she gave us unconditional love and me a dependable friend. She never imposed her will except when a ham bone was in the waiting. When a ham came out of the oven she always knew it and was always first in line so she could get her bone.
Though she is now gone, I see her everywhere in the house and in the yard. I miss her terribly. Dont make my mistake. Treat your pup for heartworms. I never thought it would happen; and my Precious Pup paid the price with her life, and I will pay for it always because our time together was cut short; but I will never forget her. She is gone but her spirit of love and devotion remains everywhere. Goodbye Mrs. Puppy... my precious, Preciosa. We miss you.
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