Over the several years since I moved to Willow Oak I have found several litters of puppies in the woods that surround
the place. I have personally supplied our local animal shelter with enough puppies to keep them in business for at least
a year. Usually I find whole litters of puppies, but there was once when I heard away off in the woods a solitary puppy,
yelping and crying out.
With huge paws even at only a couple of months old, the pup turned out to be a large breed black dog, which is among
the most difficult dog breeds to adopt out. And he was covered with mange and full of worms. My experience at the
shelter had always been good. The staff at the shelter has always made a good-faith effort to save any animal that they
receive. Unfortunately, not all can be saved. It is a sad thing, but many shelter animals must be put down. Not all dogs
and cats are adoptable, and the alternative is worse.
This particular guy that I had found was about to get lucky. I took him home and having surmised his condition decided
that he would not be going to the shelter. By the time I got him to the house I knew I had myself another dog. And am I
glad. Oscar has been a great addition to Willow Oak.
In the beginning, Oscar was in a bad way, and I actually contracted the mange from him. He and I both were in
quarantine for several days while we recovered. I can testify personally to the extreme discomfort of having mange. I
would bathe Oscar in the kitchen sink, dry him off, and sprinkle him with Gold Bond powder to lessen the itch. I would
bathe myself regularly in hot water with Epsom salt, and the both of us gritted our teeth as we recovered. He did suffer
so those first few days! I suffered too, but I got some medication that took care of my problem, and in time both Oscar
and I would recover from that awful malady.
Eventually, Oscar recovered from his bout of the mange (as did I, thankfully), and today Oscar is as big as a horse.
Oscar is one big, healthy, vibrant, and happy boy. He runs and plays and barks at the cars that go by our place. Oscar
has adopted one of the cats. Most nights, Oscar and Tiger, a gray tabby, can be seen wrapped in each others' arms,
snoring the night away.
I rescue strays animals. It's what I do. Most I deliver to the animal shelter, but a few manage to find a home at Willow
Oak, my 16 acre farm in rural Alcorn County, Mississippi. If I rescue a dog that is deemed to be "unadoptable," I try to
give it a home. So it was for three such vagabonds.
Before I bought Willow Oak, I lived with my mother on her five acre farm. A strange dog presented itself one cold winter
day about seven years ago. He was a very pretty and very furry, orange colored dog, which I found out later to be of
the chow variety. This dog would greet us at the door of our house as we came and went. In time we would leave him
some food -- what else could we do?
Even though this is Mississippi, the temperature during winter can still dip pretty low on the thermometer, and I figured
with all that fur, this guy surely wasn't going to feel the cold. Nonetheless, I awoke one morning to find the guy in the
living room as I exited my bedroom. Mother said she felt sorry for him being outside in the cold like that. Anyway, he was
anxious to go outside, so I opened the door and out he ran. Such a vivacious guy! Bouncing around and chasing birds
and the cats that were outside. But if he ever caught anything he wouldn't hurt it -- he would jest let it escape, then settle
down to sniff the air and feel proud of his "accomplishment."
One evening, as we were preparing for bed I asked my mom if she were going to let her "friend" in the house. She did,
and it looked like he was going to be boarding with us for a while. A few days later, mother asked me if I had seen "Fred."
"Fred?" I asked.
"Yes. Fred. That's what you called him."
"No," I said, "I called him your 'friend.'"
"Oh," she said. "I thought you said, 'Fred.'"
And that's how Fred got his name.
When I bought Willow Oak, Fred moved with me, and he has lived with me ever since. Today Fred is the overseer of
Willow Oak, the alpha male, the ruler of the crew. Fred keeps all the others in line and sees to it that nothing comes to
harm while I am away. Nobody approaches Willow Oak by foot or by machine without Fred's awareness, and he is sure
to announce to me and to the intruder that he has been detected.
Fred is truly a man's best friend.
For a while Fred and Oscar were the only "big dogs on campus." Even though all of the dogs bark at strangers,
whether canine, feline, or human, or whatever, Fed and Oscar present a visible barrier that not many would be willing to
challenge. Nonetheless, I found a menacing and apparently willing challenger standing in the yard one day, when I went
outside to inspect what was causing the dogs to make such a loud row.
I have delivered way more animals to our local animal shelter than I have kept. The ones that usually end up staying with
me are those that are deemed to be not as "adoptable" as those that do end up at the shelter. Of course, you can't
save them all. I have delivered animals to the shelter with the full knowledge that they would be euthanized. I do not like
euthanization, but I don't believe it is necessarily a bad thing. One must do what is best for the animal, and with limited
space and resources euthanasia is sometimes what is best for a particular animal.
I was quite sure that's where this dog was headed the first time I saw him, only I wasn't going to let the shelter do the
deed. I was determined to do it myself. He had shown up at my place from out of the blue. He appeared menacing. He
looked like a cross between a boxer and a pit bull, and what's more, he had long saliva hanging from his jaws. He looked
sick, and I said to myself, "I've got a mad dog on my hands."
I scurried about, gathering up my own animals and pulled them into the house with me, and went and got my gun. In the
mean time this mad dog had moved around to the back of my house. I was scared and confused. I did not want to kill the
dog right away so I called the shelter. No, they wouldn't be able to come out right away, so I called the Sheriff's
department. No, that's not their job, they said. Well, great! What to do now? So I positioned myself behind an open
window, took aim, let off the safety, and placed the bead squarely between the dog's eyes. Just then the dog lifted his
head and looked me straight in the eyes. Wow! What a position to be in! I know that hunters shoot wild animals all the
time, but there I was about to pull the trigger on a dog! But at least I would be justified in doing so. All I had to do was
pull the trigger, and it would be over. But I couldn't do it. I could not pull the trigger.
So, I went outside and placed some food on the ground, and decided to give the matter some thought.
Since then I have learned that any new acquiree should be quarantined and looked at by the vet before it gets
introduced to the rest of my animals. But I didn't know better back then. I decided to take a chance and assume that the
dog was not "mad." He was sick though. Some good grub and a chance to have someone look after him, plus a couple
of visits to the vet, some antibiotics and some vitamins, and maybe he would be okay. So I monitored his behavior for a
day or two, continued to feed and water him, and within a couple of weeks he was looking much better. I did not pull the
trigger, and man am I glad. Eventually he would get the vet attention he needed.
Sam has turned out to be the gentlest, most easy-going dog I've ever had. In reality, Sam is just a big baby -- full of
energy and loves to play. He is one of the prime reasons I recently erected a fence around my house. Sam loves to
chase cars, and if he can get in front of one he will. I know. He got run over by a very large SUV one day while trying to
outrun it. Luckily for Sam the truck merely "straddled" him or he might not be here for me to be writing about him.
| Fred "sniffs" the air |
| Oscar is as big as a horse |
| He may look bad, but in reality Sam is just a big baby |
| Running with the Big Dogs Daniel Taylor |