Last year one of the dogs in the neighborhood had puppies. The owner of the dog didn't really feed her, so she would go out roaming for food. The puppies ended up behind my apartment also foraging for food with their mother. I will never claim to be the nicest person in the world, but when looking at a starving dog who barely had enough strength to breast feed them, and four adorable puppies, I had to do something. So I started feeding them (I'll admit that I wasn't consistent because as wandering dogs they weren't always behind my house).
|My dog is the brown one on |
One puppy in particular took to me. I swear he (although I thought it was a girl at first) fell in love with me right away. Oddly enough from the first moment I saw him, I found him to be the most entertaining of the four puppies. And he was so dag on confident and flipping adorable. The others were cute, too but there was just something about this one. It was as if he was mine.
When I'd feed the puppies, instead of running for the food like the others, he'd run back and forth in excitement before coming up to me and trying to play. I had to lead him to the food so he could eat. When I went to work in the mornings the puppy would follow me. My landlord had to pick him up and hold him. One time he placed him in the basket of a bike, and the dog tried to climb down (Don't worry, my landlord caught him before he could tumble out).
On my return home, the puppy would come from nowhere and run up to me smelling my shoes. Then he would stand in front of me blocking my path or weave his little body in between my legs so I couldn't walk. He was a ham for attention. Everywhere on the property I went, he followed, sometimes he'd take his paw and step on the back of my shoe. At first I though it was an accident, but when it kept happening I knew the little rascal was doing it intentionally.
I initially didn't want to take care of him because I knew I'd be travelling to the UK and I didn't want to get attached. It happened anyway. When I told my landlord it was a male (they tend to be good watchdogs), he took interest in the dog and named him Risky.
I was told that the dog now follows my old landlord around as if he were his shadow. Such a loving dog. Every once in a while I wonder if the dog will remember me if he sniffs me again.
True love is a wonderful thing.
One last story about Risky. When I was moving, I gave my neighbors a mirror. They rested it outside so they could pick up some other things. All of a sudden Risky started barking and growling. I went out side to see what the problem was and the girls told me he was looking at his reflection. I laughed so hard that day.