Once upon a time there was a dog that never got off a chain. He lived in a trailer park, behind a cyclone gate, chained to the axel of an abandoned motor home. His only shelter was a fetid Igloo house, full of windblown leaves and garbage. He had no water. He had no food. He was surrounded by garbage of every description. The sad part is that even before him, another dog had lived in the same place, chained to the same axel, living in the same Igloo, only that dog had been tied there for five years. He had chewed through the skin on his legs. His fur was matted and his eyes were void of love, life, interest or hope. He lay in his own feces all day long, only able to go to the length of his chain which was about five feet or less, depending on what it got tangled around. The only time the crap around him ever disappeared was when the rain fell, melting it back into the fetid ground he was chained to. Some people finally complained, and Animal Control came to check it out, but the Animal Control officer decided that if stuff was coming out the back, then it must be going in the front. In other words, someone was feeding the dog. Shortly after that visit, the dog disappeared. Maybe it was taken to the river and shot in the head. Who knows? I would hardly think that the owner would have taken it anywhere in HIS car. After all, it had been chained in filth and dirt for five years. Probably didn’t smell too good.
So, now here is a different dog, chained, living in filth, no water, not much food, and no attention. Same chain, same house……only this dog was only about a year old, maybe less. Day after day, he would be there. No love, no attention. People who lived there didn’t even notice him unless he barked, then someone would yell, “Shut up!” That were the words he heard………..shut up. He wanted to play, but his chain was tangled. He chewed everything he could get near, just to have something to do. He had a sore over his eye, but no one tended to it. No one petted him. No one spoke soothing words to him. He never had a toy. He was just there. Invisible to everyone until a big motorcycle run came to the little town where he lived. It wasn’t that he didn’t have an owner. He did, but his owner couldn’t take care of him. His owner was trying very hard to take care of himself so he often forgot about the dog. The dog didn’t know it, but from that point on, his life was going to change.
It so happens that this dog was near a store. There was also a phone booth there and one of the motorcycle guys couldn’t get cell service so he walked down to use the phone. Across the driveway and through the fence, the biker guy saw the dog. While he was making his phone calls, he saw the dog watching him through the fence. Saw the dog surrounded by filth and garbage. Saw the dog.
As the weekend went on, people from the motorcycle run brought the dog water and scraps of steak. Bikers are good people. They may seem tough but under all that leather beats hearts of gold. They worried and fretted about the dog. Word spread about the dog. The guy that saw him wanted to take him home, but he was on a bike. They all kept talking. As the weekend drew to an end it was decided. One guy had driven up to the motorcycle run. He had been in a bad accident several years before and couldn’t ride on two wheels anymore, but he had four wheels and he said he would take the dog. A couple of bikers went down to where the dog was chained. The fence had fallen in and was laying over most of the dog’s chain. The dog could barely move his head, but he finally wagged his tail when he saw the bikers. The marched right in, took off the chain, put a bungee cord around his neck like a leash and led the dog out. The dog was confused, but the bikers persisted. One guy from the trailer park yelled out, but his voice was drowned out by the big classic convertible surrounded by Harleys that pulled up alongside the dog and the bikers. The door opened and the dog was tossed into the big back seat. Another guy jumped in with the dog and off they went down the road. The dog’s ears flapping in the wind. His ride surrounded by motorcycles, escorting him onto his new life.
So, Mr. Lucky, as he came to be called, rode a long way in this convertible, ears flapping, all the way down to another county. He spent his first night in a huge fenced yard with plenty of food and water. His sore over his eye was cleaned and he was given a bed of quilts and blankets. The next day the big biker got up and Mr. Lucky was gone. He had jumped the fence. Damn! The search was on. This was a nice neighborhood where Mr. Lucky was roaming. Far from highways. Nice houses and nice people. That night everyone involved in the rescue of Mr. Lucky worried. A dog that has never been off a five foot chain, and finding himself suddenly free to roam, could end up anywhere. He ended up in the pound. They found that out the next morning.
One biker lady, who truly loves dogs, called and described Mr. Lucky. Yep, he was there. He was easy to catch. He loves people. The pound people loved him too, but since she had called, she needed to go get him. She really didn’t want a new dog, and the big biker who drove him down couldn’t take care of him either, but she went and got him anyway. She brought him home in her Jaguar because he wouldn’t fit on her bike. She brought him to her home up in the hills with an even bigger and more secure fenced yard. Mr. Lucky ate more food and drank more water. She gave him a bath, probably the first one he had ever had. She gave him toys and good chewy bones. He responded by being a good dog. Loving and happy. She’s not sure if she can keep him as she has a couple of other dogs that are sort of put out, but it sounds like Mr. Lucky is going to be very lucky indeed. This might not be his forever home, but he is happy, free, fed, bathed and the last I heard, he is going for shots and a check-up from the doctor.