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| Name: |
Pilot
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Age: |
Five Years old
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| Gender: |
Male |
Breed: |
All-American Dog
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| Home: |
Oklahoma, USA |
I live and work in the middle of the middle of nowhere. The nearest town is 30 miles away, and it has a population of 300 people. The only grocery store, public restroom, and soda fountain that can be found for miles are all combined together in one tiny little rundown quick stop that sits on the side of a long, lonely highway. As I already suggested, it can be lonely here, not just for me, but for an abandoned dog as well.
It was almost 100 degrees outside the day that he limped up to me, tongue dragging from his mouth and head and ears hanging down, a bit of old rope hanging around his neck.I could already guess what his story was, because I'd seen it a hundred times before: his owners didn't want him any more, but rather than take him to a shelter and risk having to donate to the cause or earn a bad reputation, they decided to go on a road trip out to the country, where nobody knew them, and conveniently "lose" him. He was one of the lucky few to find me.
Despite his obvious dehydration and misery, he wagged his tail as he greeted me. I gave him some cool water, slipped the "rescue leash" I keep on hand over his head and loaded him into my vehicle. I took him home and gave him a bath. I checked his feet to see why he was limping and found that he had sores on them from walking too long on a hot day. I drove him to the vet the next day. After a check up and giving him vaccinations, the vet declared he was healthy, though she recommended he gain some weight. She checked for a microchip, but came up empty. She alerted the nearby dog pounds and animal shelters, just in case someone out there missed him, but she suspected the same thing I did - nobody was looking for him.
I took him home, just like I had done with so many dogs before him, planning to foster him until I was confident he was healthy and sound enough to re-home. But I never put the re-homing ad out. In less than a week, he worked his way permanently into my heart like no other homeless dog had done. He woke something up inside me. He began to naturally alert me to oncoming asthma attacks. He made me exercise, or he drove me crazy. What's more, he made exercise fun. He enjoyed traveling with me and he was insanely happy to see me when I came home from work.
His favorite character to watch on "Star TrekL The Original Series" was Spock. He watched him like a hawk. Every frown was turned upside down when people saw him. I started sleeping better at night, knowing he was near. Suddenly, I couldn't see myself without him. I named him Pilot, after my favorite character in the SciFi series, "Farscape."
Now days, he is a little overweight (we're working on that), travels with me everywhere I go, has earned his Canine Good Citizen and novice Trick Dog title, still refuses to "turn in a circle," poses like a model for the camera, and is a big star on my blog and on Instagram (@pilot.the.trickdog). He's my good boy, and I'd be sorely bored and unhappy without him.
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