Smelly Socks: The mighty Thor's great escape
When the children are at school and John is at work, I can get pretty lonely all by myself. The horses and cows are not the best company, and the dogs and cats don't really have much to say.
So I have been bugging John lately about getting me a furry little companion that can stay in the house. Due to Austin's rather bad allergies, we had to be specific about the type of dog we could get. Through questioning people and conducting some Internet searches, we decided that a poodle was probably our best bet.
The Dorothy O'Connor Pet Adoption Center happened to have two poodles that were in need of a "forever home." I was so excited that I was finally going to get my companion. Since I am surrounded by three boys inside and two male dogs outside, I was hoping that I would finally get "my little girl" at least in a dog sense of the word.
After school, I loaded up the boys and headed to the shelter. When we arrived, they showed us to a room with two miniature white poodles. There was a sweet little girl with the perfect bouffant hairdo and the nippy poodle personality named Fifi, and my heart swooned. Also in the room was a raggedy, scruffy, extremely calm and sad little boy poodle with Yoda-like ears.
Austin picked up a ball and gave it a toss. The sweet girl looked at the ball roll and then went to nibble on Austin's hand, while jumping up and down. The little boy watched the ball roll, yawned, then moseyed over to the ball and brought it back to Austin. Jamison was intent to get in on the action and went to pick up another toy.
He was walking to it and tripped and banged his foot into a metal water bowl in the room. With the loud clang, the girl poodle ran and hid under the chairs, refusing to come out. The boy poodle looked at the bowl, looked at the boys, decided to lie down and stayed where he was.
I wanted the boys to learn some responsibility and take care of this dog. So I left the decision in their hands, feeling confident that the gorgeous Fifi was coming home. I was up at the counter paying for our new addition when the boys came out of the room with huge smiles on their faces.
Walking next to them on a leash was the raggedy, scruffy and very calm boy poodle. "Isn't he cool, Mom?" Austin asked. "I am naming him Thor," he continued. Jamison added "Yeah, Austin chose the name but I get to pick out his bed and collar and toys." In unison they both chimed in with, "He may be small, but he is mighty. Our mighty Thor."
Into the house we walked with our new poodle named Thor, wearing a camouflaged collar, camouflaged bed and an assortment of stuffed duck toys and bones. John looked up with a grin and chuckled, "Ah, I see that you finally got the little girl you wanted?" "She isn't too pretty." he continued.
John had been preaching to me that this was our dog. He said that our two labs outside he'll take care of, but Thor was our job. John wasn't too nice comparing our 17-pound Thor next to his 115-pound lab Jasper. "This is a man's dog," John said, patting Jasper's back as Jasper's mouth curled into a smirk while looking down at our tiny Thor.
In teaching the boys responsibility, it was decreed that they are to take Thor outside to take care of any necessary business that needed to be taken care of. After a couple of days, Austin decided that the mighty Thor could be taken off his leash when he was taken outside.
My parents were over visiting, and we were walking them to their car when barefooted Austin comes running around the house saying that Thor took off down the road. We looked and saw a little white puff making a run for it down our ranch road. I jump in my parent's back seat as Austin ran inside to get his boots on and grab his partner Jamison.
As we got close to Thor, I called his name, which only seemed to make him speed up. I made the kissing noise that he usually comes to, and again he had those little legs moving. Then our spoiled diva-like Braham cows heard the calls and decided that it must be feeding time and started running toward the car, which again inspired the mighty Thor to again surge forward. That very moment Austin and Jamison came tearing down the road on their bikes. At this point Thor had stopped looking back and ran for his little poodle life.
A light shined down from heaven and Thor saw salvation ahead of him. John, hearing all of the commotion, walks out of the barn to see me hollering after Thor, my parents in their car trying to catch up to the fur ball, the cows bellowing and running toward us for cattle cubes, the boys peddling their hearts out on their bikes and a little white puff ahead of everyone running like there is no tomorrow.
When John appeared, the angels sang out, and Thor ran straight into his arms and buried his head into his shirt sleeve. He was saved. He was alive. I have never seen a dog that seemed more appreciative, happy and relieved. He was rescued from the wilds of ranch life.
Austin and Jamison have Thor inside to play with and love. John now has a dog that adores him, to pick on and play with. I have a dog that tolerates me until his boys come home. Sometimes the more things change, the more they stay exactly the same.
Our new adventure was made possible because of the loving, caring people at the Dorothy O'Connor Pet Adoption Center who matched us up with the perfect pet. Thank you for being there for us.
Johanna is a proud seventh-generation Texan. She lives on her family's South Texas ranch with her husband and two lively boys. Email Johanna Bloom or Anita Spisak at firstname.lastname@example.org.