Friday, June 18, 2010
A Dog Named Bo ( a two part story)
We first caught a glimpse of him in October 2007. From a distance, he looked like a wild dog or coyote and would never come close to our RV. Obviously, he'd been dropped off up here and abandoned - there's a lot of that happening now, sad to say. He looked thin and in need of food and water, so we set some out each day for him. At first, we'd put it further down the road since he wanted no part of us, and eventually set it on the outside of our fencing where we could get a better look at him. At that point, we started calling him Hobo.
One day my husband tried to stand nearby while he was eating, but was greeted with growls and teeth. Obviously, he'd been up here awhile and was probably on the verge of going wild. One dog expert we spoke to said that these dogs usually survive on squirrels and rabbits.
When the first snow hit, we worried about him and how he'd manage. We contacted a dog sanctuary further up in Old West Ranch, but she was 'full up' and said they couldn't take him. We knew the dog pound was an instant sentence for him. Fortunately, we were able to borrow a doggy igloo and hoped he'd use it. When all our pipes in the RV froze and we had to leave for the campground, it broke our hearts to leave him up here alone. But, each morning we'd bring him hot food and clean water, hoping he'd survive the winter.
When the first 6 inch snow hit overnight, we feared the worst. We drove up in our 4 wheel drive Jeep and I yelled "Hobo" as I always did. No response. I tried again, and then suddenly I saw movement from inside the igloo. He stuck his head out from behind the blanket that we had secured over the entrance. He'd survived the frigid night.
We kept this routine up throughout the long winter and with each delivery of food, we'd purposely stand closer and closer and talk to him. As the days slowly warmed and crews arrived for construction, Hobo started hanging out inside our property. Our son Rick, enjoyed being dropped off during the day to watch all the activity. Hobo seemed to gravitate to him.
He never wagged his tail or allowed a gentle touch, but happily ate the food that was provided. He slowly came closer and closer to us. One day, I had my pickup truck door open and was waiting for Rick. Hobo came up to the truck and looked inside. For some reason I asked, "do you want to go for a ride?" He jumped inside! Now, I have to tell you, this dog with his very unusual coloring and appearance is one scary looking dog. He jumped into the back seat and as far away from me as possible and didn't budge. All the way into town, I kept praying he wouldn't go wacko on us. Amazingly, he was well behaved and seemed to enjoy the ride. Before going back to the campground, we swung by the property, opened the door and out he jumped. Not even a thank you for the ride!
The story continues tomorrow.......................