Short Stories
Mama Dog and Fried Chicken
Living in the country for the past five years has been quite an eventful experience for a city girl. I moved to my thirty acres with high expectations of re-living some of my childhood memories. How I used to look forward to those summer trips on my grandmother's farm! I could hardly wait to get there, round up my cousins, hit the trails in the woods, or get to the pond with a fishing pole.
I have indeed re-lived some of those memorable moments here on my land. I often find myself standing in the pasture before the sun has awakened and everytime it almost takes my breath as I look into the dark sky with the dancing stars. My Lord created this world with an intelligience that I can not even begin to understand. Nor can I understand how those fingerling catfish I put in my pond grew to such enormous beauties;nor can I understand how the mama cows know how to birth their babies alone; or how the trees know when to adorn themselves with green then yellow or brilliant reds. There is a lot about God's world that I don't understand but bask in its pleasures none the less.
However, living in the country also brings other things I don't understand. It's amazing to me that as beautiful as it is out here, people who don't live here must think we need the things they don't want. Like their garbage, their old tires, old sofas- I keep hoping no one throws out an unwanted wife! In this endless list of unwanted items, probably 25 or 30 dogs have been thrown out and ofcourse I keep taking them in. Fortunately, I have found homes for most of them..
But about three years ago, someone threw out a young dog a half-mile up the road. She took shelter in an old barn and, ofcourse, I began feeding her. She was so frightened she would never come within 50 feet of me, but every day I left food on the side of the road for her.
Shortly after she came, a man who rented the 150 acres for his cows brought his horse to the land. The poor horse, Buck, had been living with other horses and now found himself with no species like his own. I'm sure he grieved, as the stray dog grieved. So the scenario was there for a perfect bond, and bond they did. Now I never see the horse without the dog. They are inseparable, which means that every morning I not only take dogfood up the road but some sweet-feed as well. You'd think after 3 years this dog would realize I'm a friend, but still she keeps her distance. I can only imagine what man must have done to her prior to being dumped off that would make her never come near me. If only we as God's children would keep our distance from anything perceived as danger. .
The story doesn't end here, however. It wasn't long before nature took its course and stray dog became Mama Dog. I never saw Papa Dog. He must have been a one-nighter. At any rate, Mama Dog chose to deliver during the winter sleet storm. She so carefully had dug out a hole in the middle of a big hay bale to place all nine puppies. I felt confident the puppies would be warm enough, but since the sleet had started I decided to check on them anyway. It was nighttime, so I bundled myself in coat and gloves, grabbed the flashlight and headed up the road. It was a good thing I checked on them because the cows had eaten the top out of the hay bale and ice was gathering in the baby bed. I moved the puppies to the barn with Mama Dog and Buck watching my every move.
As the puppies grew and time came to wean, I had to make 3 trips a day up the road with puppy food. Rain, sleet, snow, or shine, I had to go. Then adoption time came, and since I had already exhausted my list of friends who would take another dog, it wasn't easy to find homes for all of them. But I did indeed find homes, but this had been an experience I did not intend to repeat. This all started with feeding one stray dog, then a horse, then nine puppies. Too much for a city girl.
Mama Dog slipped up though. She allowed herself to be caught in a "Have-a-Heart" trap which I baited with scrumptous canned dog food, I was so proud of myself and wondered why I had not thought to use the trap before, that is until I tried to load the 50 pound dog into the back of my pick-up truck. That proved to be quite a feat, but was accomplished with much effort and off to the vet we went. Mama Dog got "fixed", no more nine puppies in her future (or mine either) and I thought my problems were over. I brought her home, put her in the fence out back with the other 3 dogs that had been abandoned, and knew her life would be better. She would have fresh water, doggy conversations, a warm dog house, me, what else could she want?
Well what Mama Dog wanted was Buck the horse. She didn't stay in the dog fence 2 hours before she dug under the fence and headed back up the road. Buck was waiting.
Not to be outdone, I was out the next day, attaching 2-feet of fence perpendicular to the bottom of the existing fence. I would bring her back and there would be no way Mama Dog could dig under ever again.
I baited my "Have-a-Heart" trap and up the road I went. To my surprise, Mama Dog was not enticed by the scrumptous dog food this time, nor was she enticed by a sandwich in the trap. She was not even enticed when I baited it with "Southern Fried Chicken"! There was no way Mama Dog was going into that trap again. The last time she went into that trap she was whisked away and had a "not so pleasant experience" at the animal hospital.
Mama Dog had learned a very valuable lesson. No matter how good that fried chicken leg looked, that trap meant "danger" and she was not about to go near it ever again.
Isn't it a shame that we, the superior species, don't always learn as rapidly as Mama Dog? Sin is so enticing. It looks so good. It is so pleasurable. If it wasn't, we would not be so quick to jump into its cage. You'd think though as soon as we lived its consequences, we wouldn't go near it again. You'd think once would be enough. Ahh, but the sweet fragrance of that fried chicken, and we're right back in that cage!
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