by Virgil Teague

Created on: May 15, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

MY GOLDEN DOG

Not long after I'd purchased my little country home, I busied myself with typical new-owner projects: rehabilitating the run-down garage, repainting the exterior to hide the hideous teal blue the previous inhabitants had chosen, uprooting problematic plants and replacing them with better choices and generally blowing through the last of my savings in order to make my new house a home I could be proud of.

Amid all this, a yellow dog kept showing up each evening. She wore no collar, but even my untrained eye could tell she was a Golden Retriever from nose to tail, and I wondered why someone would let such a fine animal roam free. She was always a little muddy and disheveled, grateful for the least show of affection, and perpetually hungry.

Eventually I got used to her schedule: I'd put out some food and fresh water in one corner of the garage, and about sundown she'd show up for dinner, some back-scratching and a night's rest on an old piece of carpet under the workbench. She disappeared each morning - to her home, I assumed - but was back again each evening.

One morning I was having coffee at the little crossroads store that's been the nexus of this rural community for many years, and I mentioned to one of the regulars that this nice-looking dog kept showing up at my place. The old-timer looked up from his cup and said, "Why, that dog belongs there...lived there all its life."

I don't understand how someone can abandon a pet, but that's exactly what the previous owners of the house had done: simply left this dog behind, along with a small barn loaded with junk, a yard filled with debris created by their two young boys, and a house that hadn't seen a good cleaning, it appeared, since it was built.

The next week, I decided to take her to the veterinarian. When I dropped the tailgate of my old truck, she jumped in as if she'd been doing it all her life.

I said to the vet, "I don't know anything about this dog. Give her a quick look and tell me what you think." The dog padded willingly along behind him and they disappeared into the back of the clinic for about ten minutes.

When the vet returned, he said, "Well, she's a fine animal. Golden Retriever, of course...and probably has papers." I shrugged my shoulders; what did I know about an abandoned dog? "But she has a serious case of heart worms, and I won't promise you we can save her."

"What's it going to take?" I asked. "About ninety days...and about a thousand dollars." Here I stood, a brand-new homeowner

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