© Bruce Goodman 24 July 2015
(This is written for the Cherished Blogfest. I depart for this “fest” from my daily fiction stance to the non-fiction. Although the Cherished Blogfest says a “cherished object“, I was never one to be hidebound by a rule. Click here to find fellow bloggers blogging for the Cherished Blogfest!)
I had a dog. It was some sort of Collie cross. It was long-haired and dark brown, with light brown trimmings. I called him Doggie. This is his story:
I was sitting on my veranda in Asheville, North Carolina, when a large dog appeared, walking along the road. It came up to me. It was hungry. It settled on my veranda and wouldn’t go away. I gave it some water. I gave it some food. I had never had a dog before. The postman told me where the dog lived. I left a note in their mail box with my name and number: “Your dog is at my place if your wish to pick it up.”
They never replied to my note. Several days later the dog disappeared. The postman told me that the owners used to beat the dog up.
A number of weeks went by and I was again on the veranda. There was a thunder storm and it was pouring with rain. The dog appeared on the road. He saw me and ran, scampering up the steps to the veranda. The huge animal leaped soaking wet into my arms. He never left again.
He had nests of fleas and blood-sucking tics and great whip soars across his back.
Several years later I had to move to Saint-Georges, Quebec. Doggie hated travelling in the car. He lay on the back seat feeling sick for three days of travel. Not a whimper; just a patient acceptance. I was worried about crossing the border into Canada, as I was an illegal resident in the United States. I was saved by the dog! The border people were interested in the dog’s papers. They took no notice of my passport.
Two years later I had to return to New Zealand as my health had deteriorated. I advertised in the local paper: FREE TO A GOOD HOME. A woman answered. She had a handicapped son. She had promised him a dog.
I drove to their home in Saint-Georges.
“Why! He’s a big teddy bear!” said the boy in French. “I will take him to show grandpa.”
I drove off. The last I saw was the boy and his dog in the distance, crossing the road, off to see grandpa.
I was bawling my eyes out. Doggie’s tail was wagging.
You did good!! What I really want to say though is ‘You were an illegal immigrant??!!’
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Yes, and in Canada too!
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You reprobate you! 🙂
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LOL!
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You little devil! 🙂
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Thanks!!!
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Asheville is beautiful! Of course I’ve never been there illegally. I wonder if that makes it an even sweeter place to be. The question I have is how does a creative person such as yourself come to name a dog Doggie?
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LOL! Yes, I do apologise for my once illegality! The dog’s name is a very long story! The next door neighbour lad (Jed 14 years) was wheelchair bound. He always wanted to mow a lawn, so the lawnmower company (free of charge) made him a fantastic lawnmower that he could pull behind the wheel chair. He mowed my lawn and I gave him $20, and the next day he died. He is the one that invented the name Doggie. However, in French Canada “Doggie” was foreign and exotic!
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You did well with Doggie, Bruce. How can any one be surprised you were an illegal immigrant?
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🙂 It’s more fun that way!
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Being an illegal immigrant was a lot more loose-goosey back in those days, I suspect, than it is today. And you could always use a fact which, in those Quebecois parts, would make you a figure of high esteem, i.e.. being a man of the cloth…. or was it a man of the clothes? At any rate, having to part from a canine companion is heart-wrenching, as I know very well. This piece is a real tear-jerker!
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Thanks for the compliment, Cynthia. Although it was pre-9/11 when I entered the States, it was post-9/11 when I left. The Canadian border people were not greatly enamoured I felt with all the regulations/restrictions being imposed on the US side of the border. Yes, pre-9/11 it was certainly easy-peasy to go in and out.
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I am also reminded by your story of how customs inspectors can be sidetracked by what accompanies you when you are crossing borders…as you say Doggie’s “papers” did. On a trip back to the US from Nova Scotia once, I decided that some contraband in my luggage would not be noticed if I bought some girlie magazines before boarding ship and placed them at the top of my tote bag. I was right. The customs officers got all involved with flipping through those magazines and smirking, and completely ignored whatever else was in my luggage. I passed right through.
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Cunning! I always buy (in the host country) some little wooden knick-knack and then go through the agriculture inspection line. “No! That doesn’t count as agriculture, you silly person”. And off I go. The line is always shorter than the other lines anyway!
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Another crafty little devil! 🙂
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The world abounds with crafty little devils! Feel free to join!
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What a great story! I love the cloak and dagger feel of your cross-border escapade, although I’m quite shocked by your cavalier flaunting of international laws!
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Thanks – it has always been a pleasure to flaunt/flout international law!
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Oops. That should be cavalier “flouting” although you’re certainly doing a good job of flaunting your flouting with this story!
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Oh the difference an o and an a can make! Take fort for example! (I wrote about the damn dog, and everyone seems to hone in on my residency status!)
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The damn dog is the obvious story. The sidebar one of you sneaking across the border just tickles the fancy of your readers.
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This choked me up a little…nice writing
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Thanks! I might be able to knit the occasional story, but never a sweater!
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What a nice story – and you did well by Doggie. He was a lucky dog, to find two good, caring owners.
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Thanks Noelle
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Well, I have to say that is one of the happiest looking dogs I’ve seen. He’s grinning at his amazing luck. It was wonderful of you to rescue him from the horrible people (right out of a Flannery O story, they were) and then make sure he got a good home and companion.
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Yes, Flannery O’Connor indeed! I wish I had met them, but I didn’t see them. They weren’t home when I called. I had two dogs in Canada – this one spoke English, the other spoke French!
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I had a friend who gave his dog from puppyhood all his commands etc. in Latin, and the dog of course understood and obeyed. People used to say “what a smart dog; he knows Latin!”
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The dog was certainly smarter than some people! I lived next door (last year) to New Zealand’s largest veterinary university and my dog used to be a “client” of the vet school. She got a badge that read “My dog goes to university!”
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As soon as I saw the picture I knew I was going to cry. It was Lassie Come Home all over again, with Lassie never coming home. I sniffle as I write this. A beautiful story for a beautiful dog.
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Thanks Susanne. A dog doesn’t match the loss of a brother, as in your posting, but still sad nonetheless.
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The last sentence made me cry Bruce. I’m a huge sook with animals. I’m glad Doggie found love. You are a lovely man to look after Doggie 🙂
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Thanks Belinda. I derived considerable pleasure from your admission of tears!
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Bruce … you horrible man! lol! 🙂
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We can’t both blubber at the same time!
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You can blubber … I’ll just sit here blowing snotty bubbles …. ! (ewwww … !)
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A tissue?
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I’m onto toilet paper now ….
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LOL! You’re on a roll!
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You better not have some cat story next Mr Goodman 😦 (Ha! I just got the “on a roll pun!” … lol!)
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How is it that stories (and memories) of our dogs invoke sadness and smiles at the same time. Thank you for participating in the blogfest and for sharing this story.
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Thanks! I guess (when one has them) they’re always part of the family!
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My goodness, this is such a sweet, sentimental story. You have a really good writing style!
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Thank you so much. Your visit and comment is much appreciated!
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You’re welcome!
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How heartfelt! I love dogs. I’m happy to hear that the dog’s story has a happy ending.
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Thanks for visiting and commenting!
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What some people do to animals is terrible, but I am glad you gave the pup a home, and then found him a loving family later. Dogs give all the love that they have, they deserve love in return!
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Yes, I agree. I presume – given the considerable passing of time – that the dog is dead now, but I still often wonder how he is doing!
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Good one. Thank you for participating.
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Thanks for visiting and your comment. It is much appreciated.
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You’re most welcome, Bruce. I am waiting for you to visit India and then I take you on a hike.
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I haven’t got the right footwear! 😀
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No problem Bruce. If you observe the pictures closely you’ll see I am wearing an expensive Italian brand not designed for hiking or trekking, but still I made it. 🙂
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😀
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Boys and dogs go together, I bet they became inseparable. Hope your health improved. X
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Thanks for reading and commenting. And 😦 I need a heart transplant but (apparently) too few are donating!
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Oh dear, fingers crossed that you get lucky. X
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First I was rather sad reading your story and my eyes were even welling up …. then I started reading the comments and found myself laughing at many of them.
It would appear I am really, really naive compared to all the shenanigans you and others pull off at the borders 😉
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Thanks for your comment. Delighted to have made you both sad and happy all at once!
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There’s a special place on heaven for those who provide havens on earth.
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Thanks. A special haven in heaven would be nice!
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Beautiful story. I would have kept him the first time from the moment I noticed how badly he was being treated by his owner. But, I’m glad it ended well. Great job! I have two cats, think they are human, they are too smart. lol
Thank you for visiting my blog and taking the time to read my post. Love your blog.
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Thanks for visiting, and for your kind comment. These days I have a cat, a dog, a goat, and a cow!
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lol Sure would not mine at all. lol
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There are tears we cry when we are happy and sad, and sometimes both.
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Yep – that’s true indeed! Thanks.
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Doggone Bruce! Great canine tale for these dog days of Summer, more so because it’s non-fiction. You were both blessed to have crossed paths. Don’t think either of you would have had a dog’s chance without the other. If ever you’re missing Doggie, just look to the Heaven’s brightest night light: Dog Star! It’s where all doggies go when they go to heaven.
P.S. I’m amazed at how quickly your comment feed became a dog and pony show!
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I don’t stand a dog show to compete with those Doggie-style puns! And I shall gaze at the Dog Star!
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Be Sirius. Finding the dog star (of the dog days of summer) may be difficult, just now, in the southern hemisphere, since it’s winter, not summer.
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I can’t find Sirius at the best of times! I shall look at the Southern Cross instead! That was one thing I noticed when in the Northern Hemisphere – I could actually make out the famous star formations/clusters: the Bear, etc etc… Until then I had always thought they were a bit silly.
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Don’t tell anyone, but I still think they’re silly….not too far removed from seeing chickies and duckies and old men’s faces and angels in cloud formations.
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Where?! Where?!!!!
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What a life Doggie has had, and, O, what a traveller!
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You comment had me re-read the posting and all the comments. (O to be popular again LOL!)
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I was told that adding a murder, or at the least a dead body, to my blog would increase readership. Clearly dog stories and scofflaws top that. Now I have to go in search of a tissue.
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Dog and cat stories take the prize!
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