Allen County Animal Rescue Facility, operating from its shelter at the north edge of LaHarpe, doesn’t have an easy time keeping coffers sufficiently filled to do all needed to help dogs and cats that otherwise might face desperate circumstances.
Wife Beverly and I are in the habit of contributing to ACARF whenever occasion arises, usually in lieu of flowers at the funeral of a friend, who has made the organization a charitable choice.
We have a motive. His name is Angus.
“Our boy,” as we call him, mostly is a Schnauzer, although he has another breed or two in his background. I have been amazed how much a part of the family he has become, and it’s all because ACARF was in business.
Angus, from all accounts, was loosed on the streets of Iola to fend for himself. A condition that is difficult for me to understand because of his compellingly loving nature. We suspect his owner may have died — Angus certainly is a house dog — and relatives or whoever was called on to settle the estate had no interest in a pet.
He probably took to his life on the lam. He likes to explore, noses every smell that wafts his way and apparently was able to find enough tasty morsels. I don’t know what he was like when ACARF interceded, but he joined us in fine condition and full of energy.
By our vet’s account Angus is about 13, and he now isn’t quite as active, although when it comes time to go outdoors for the obvious he makes his wishes known.
One day this week, Beverly gone to a track meet when I arrived home, I donned my overalls to head to the country.
That’s what I do when nothing else demands my time. Two new hips and an occasional injection in my spine have improved my gait and given me endurance similar to what I had years ago. Metal detecting, hunting artifact, fishing or just meandering about an interesting place piques my interest like nothing else.
While I was changing clothes, Angus knew immediately I was bound for a journey, and he gave ample warning he didn’t mean to stay home alone. He danced about and gave full throat to his “I want to go” bark.
I couldn’t deny him.
I filled a plastic container with water, and headed for the Ranger. He scampered out and easily jumped aboard — later, when he had tired, I had to help the old boy into the truck; he is beset by mild arthritis, although vitamins and an occasional “baby” aspirin are helpful.
A couple of hours later, he was eager to get back in the truck, and as I drove home Angus, as he is wont to do, snuggled against my side.
I never dreamed you could get so attached to a little dog.
