ALMOST PASSED HER BY

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Jackie wasn't exactly looking for a Lassie type of dog, but
those eyes at the shelter sold her. In today's bittersweet story,
you'll see how a rescued animal meant so much to so many others in
her household.

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ALMOST PASSED HER BY
by Jackie Griffith

After I lost my Angel, my beloved little white Poodle in 1995, I
decided to try to find another small dog.
Dakota, a German Shepherd/Husky mix was a great dog and a
wonderful protector at 100 pounds, but he wasn't exactly a lap dog.
I called the shelter and they told me that they had a little
black Poodle/Schnauzer mix, but she hadn't been cleaned up and she
was matted and stinky. I left immediately to go see her.
As I walked down the aisle to her kennel in the back, I passed a
pretty buff and white Sheltie mix that looked like a miniature
Lassie. When I was a little girl, I watched the Lassie show on
television, and like millions of other kids, I wanted a dog like
Lassie, too. But I looked at all that long hair, said "Good luck,
baby" and I continued to the back.
They handed the matted little bundle to me, still yapping and
whining. Her front feet encircled my neck as her back feet
desperately clawed their way up my chest. To their obvious surprise,
I told them I wanted her. They gave me her number card and I went
back to the front to pay.
On the way up the aisle, the mini-Lassie looked up at me with
those beautiful liquid brown eyes. Her tail tentatively gave a
little wag, but regretfully, I said "Sorry, baby," and kept going.
However, as I was writing out the check up front, I kept seeing
this pretty little Lassie face floating in front of my eyes, so I
surprised myself when I stopped and told the attendant, "I'll take
both of them."
Surprised, she said, "Really?!" I went back to get Lassie's
number as well.
As we walked out to the car, one on each side of me, the little
black Poodle/Schnauzer mix who would be Rascal tried to attack
Lassie, so I had to get someone help me get them to my car. I
crawled into the back seat with them. I sat and petted both of them
and in a firm tone, told them that they were going to be sisters, so
they had to get along. There was to be NO fighting! I talked to
them for several minutes, repeating over and over, that I would love
them both. They would be my babies and they were never to fight.
And there was no fighting, ever again.
From the shelter, we went directly to the vet's office to get
them both checked out and then home. Dakota was playing in the
backyard with a half-deflated football he'd picked up someplace. I
was hoping the introductions would go well, but when I let the two
new little ones out of the car, still on leash, the little black runt
showed remarkable moxie by trying to attack Dakota. She jumped
straight into the air on legs that were like coiled springs. She
succeeded in getting in his face although he was about 6 times bigger
than she was!
Lassie was obviously intimidated by his size and she first
backed up a couple steps and then ran, dragging her leash with Dakota
loping along right behind her. Not exactly what I had in mind!
I thought Lassie would keep running, and was preparing to go
search for her, but she ran around the house and came back to me and
stopped. Dakota just wanted to have some fun by teasing her. She
seemed to sense that and they were best buddies from that point on.
All three of them took off across the yard with the beat-up
football, playing their version of "take away." From that moment on,
all three of them became extremely close. Where one was, they all
wanted to be. They would vie for my attention but there was never
any jealousy between them, just love.
Lassie obviously adored the "big guy." Lassie would lick his
face as they rested, and he'd bare his teeth as if he were saying,
"Don't make over me!!" Rascal was the one that wanted to wrestle all
the time, and one of them usually accommodated her until she tired
and fell asleep still wrapped around them.
In October of 2003 we lost Rascal to Cushings Disease. I had
never heard of it. There was no cure and it is always fatal. It was
so very hard to lose her, and I hung on as long as I could.
Lassie and Dakota remained close, nearly connected at the hip.
Our cat population gradually increased as I rescued some in bad
situations, and if I wasn't in the room or if I simply don't notice
trouble brewing between the cats, Lassie quickly stepped in between
them to settle things down. They respected her and simply walked
away from each other. I called her my kitty-sitter.
Then a couple days ago, I found my beautiful little girl dead in
the yard. It was a horrible surprise. I was afraid Dakota, on
medication and nutrients, wouldn't make it through winter, and it was
Lassie that we lost. I held her on my lap and sobbed for a long time
before I could call my brothers and ask for their help.
In the last two years I had rescued two more dogs who were in
serious trouble, so our canine family had grown to four dogs. And
now they are three. Fortunately, I have a large home with lots of
room for dog beds, kitty climbing and hiding places, and God has
blessed me with the ability to care for them.
Our vets and the office staff have become good friends over the
years. I know that my family and friends will also mourn the loss of
my beautiful Lassie, now at rest in the pet cemetery at the rear of
our property.
And to think, I almost passed her by.

-- Jackie Griffith

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