It was an afternoon in late September and Gerald was driving down a country road that took him through vineyards. Due to works on the main road, traffic had been diverted.

His job took him all over the valley and today he had spent a good part of his day behind the wheel. Below, between two rows of vines, something reddish-brown caught his eye. Gerald slowed the car to a stop.

Unsteadily, a tiny animal made its way toward Gerald’s car. Gerald opened the door and stepped out onto the dirt shoulder. The little animal continued forward, its head tilted at an odd angle. As the creature came closer, Gerald wondered how the animal could stand, let alone walk; it was nothing more than fur, skin, and bones.

Gerald knelt, holding still, until the little dog took a few more hesitant steps, then, as if giving up, the little fur boy collapsed at Gerald’s feet. He was so fragile looking that Gerald hesitated to touch him. It was when the red dog raised its head to look at Gerald that Gerald lost all careful inhibition in him.

One of the young dog’s eyes was totally destroyed. From his clear eye, the puppy studied him. He looked so sad that he almost broke Gerald’s heart.

With misty eyes, Gerald gently lifted the fur boy up. “How did you get this far?” he murmured before placing the little one in the passenger seat of his car.

He drove to the vet he used for his senior Airedale Terrier, Chauncey. The vet, examining the dog, said, “He must be in a lot of pain with that ruined eye. The injury has been left too long untreated.”

The vet looked at Gerald, “I’ll do everything I can to make him okay.”

Gerald nodded and left the office.

~*~

Three days later, Gerald brought the furry patient home. He was wearing an electronic collar to prevent him from scratching the stitches that held his eyelids shut. The infected and damaged eye had been removed.

Gerald held the little boy; caressing him tenderly. The twinkle in the dog’s remaining eye and his expression of grateful joy touched something deep in Gerald’s soul. He decided to stay with him, but he needed to see how his older dog would get along with the newcomer.

It turned out that the older dog would have nothing to do with the little red dog and there were a couple of episodes where Airedale had physically threatened him. Gerald and his wife were devastated: they had both come to love their little warrior.

So Gerald called the lady who ran a no-kill shelter in the neighboring county and asked if she could take a one-eyed little dog with a big heart. She agreed immediately after Gerald explained her circumstances. She added that she would like to come every other Friday to pick up the dog and take him home for weekend visits. It was Gerald’s hope that his Airedale would change her mind and grow up to accept the dog as a friend.

~*~

One week Gerald got a call from the lady at the no-kill shelter, saying that it looked like her little rescue had found a forever home. Gerald knew that the time might come when the dog, which he had never given a name for fear of becoming too attached, would be noticed by a loving human being and taken home.

Gerald’s insides twisted painfully, this was the weekend he was going to pick up the fur boy to try again at Gerald’s house.

“Can I go see him, one last time?” he said.

“Of course!”

In half an hour I was at the shelter. The lady was waiting for him, the puppy in her arms. She handed it over and the dog’s tail wagged furiously as Gerald lovingly held it. Then the hairy guy showered Gerald with kisses.

Gerald hugged him tightly and whispered words of endearment. He walked into a side yard so he could be alone with the now healthy ball of fur, whose life he had saved. But, in saving her life, she had lost her heart to the brave little warrior with a great loving spirit.

Before leaving, the lady assured him that the red dog was going to a loving home. He nodded, thanked her, and walked away from her.

The lady found it difficult to tell her about the new home the dog was going to. Hard to talk to a man whose heart was breaking. Hard not to cry when he looked into her tear-filled eyes.

Later that afternoon, a woman came to pick up her new family member. She had been told the story of the little dog. And, after arriving at the shelter, the lady told him about the man’s last visit.

In his medical files, Gerald had left a letter describing how he had come to know and love the little dog. Included in the letter was his phone number.

That night, with the phone slung over her shoulder, she told Gerald all about the red dog’s new home. She told him that she had named the furry boy, Furgus…

…and Gerald smiled.

~**~**~

Copyright 2006 Kathy Pippig Harris