Goodbye Sweet Larry

This post has taken me a long time to write.

It's been close to 3 months since Larry and Ginger took their last sojourn out together.

I still berate myself for not tying them up that day.

I remember distinctly looking at them both that morning and deciding, 'nah, I won't tie them up. They'll be ok...'

Boy was that one of the worst decisions I ever made.

We haven't heard a peep from anyone about Larry or where he might have ended up. We have yet to find his body anywhere. And to be honest, I'm not really expecting to.

This hasn't stopped me from still looking when we go out. But I no longer call out his name as we do the dog walk.

I've had to explain to wolfiepup that Larry went away and didn't come home. She has accepted it, as most matter of fact 4 year olds do. And she has told me matter of factly at random times how Larry went away, and hasn't come home.

Ginger has coped as well as can be expected. And is resigned to the fact now that if we go out anywhere she will be tied up. In fact she rolls over on her back in complete submission mode. As if she's still doing penance for not bringing Larry back.

She's stopped eating a mile a minute and eats sooo slow now it's ridiculous.

Yesterday I saw her finally lie back in Larry's spot next to wolfiepup's window.

I toy with the idea of bringing in another dog every once in a while, but my heart isn't in it.

Ginger is pretty neurotic as it is, and having both her and Larry at the same time emphasised how much work is involved in breaking in a new dog. Larry was so perfect for us - the two months or so that he was with us felt more like forever... he fit in so well with our routine. Was super affectionate without being over the top with wolfiepup. Came up to me every night after dinner for soft cuddles without being demanding like Ginger. Settled into Sit relatively quickly once I figured out his treat du jour was cheese (only eedjits like Ginger will settle for anything less, aka dry dog food). Was perfect off lead - I've never heard wolfieboy rave any more about a dog than Larry and about how well trained he was, or how well he took direction.

I miss Larry every day and wish he was still with us.

But I guess it's time to let go - because I can finally write this post without tearing up and having my heart break anew.

It is sad because I know lots of people went to a lot of effort to get him out of the pound in the first place. I feel bad about this. A lot. Of all the families he could have gone to, he came to ours and didn't make it past 3 months. And it was because I didn't tie him up and wolfieboy never reinforced the fencing.

That's on us.

I feel like I've betrayed a lot of people's trust. That too, has made me a little wary of bringing in another dog. I don't want to do that again. We're working with Ginger and her escape artist ways. But to have any additional expectations for a new dog, is just too much.

But really, the real reason for just keeping to one dog, is because I don't think I can handle it. In fact, after Ginger goes, perhaps I'll end up being dog free for a little while. Losing 3 dogs in less than 2 years is enough to stop me in my tracks for a while. My heart's just not in it anymore.

Come home, Larry?

I came home on Friday to discover the dogs had escaped the pen.

I took a lead with me and wandered down their usual route, calling for them. No response.

I gave up at 7pm, and even made a point of driving down to the neighbour's to see if they had turned up there. Nothing. I did however, find a dam, which I think is the one they usually go to.

By 10pm, wolfieboy goes outside to check some things as a storm is a-coming. And he discovers Ginger sitting on her bed.

But no Larry.

Larry never came home.

Usually when a dog goes, they come back within 24 hours of their own volition. That, or they get detained by a human, who will most likely contact me within 36 hours.

But it has now been 5 days, and I now fear the worst.

The neighbours have all been notified. Facebook posts put up. No word.

Neighbours on either side have also scoured their properties with no sign.

I took Ginger out on Sunday to let her try and sniff and perhaps show me where they went.

She took me to boundary fences.

In my current condition I'm in no state to be climbing fences.

Which leads us to a dead end.

What shocked me was how little time it took for her to reach the end of our boundary. Which makes me wonder how far they actually got. Who knows when they left. If they'd gone in the morning they could have gotten as far as the shoalhaven before coming back.

Or in Larry's case - he hasn't come back.

I keep on having this vision of him lying injured somewhere, holding onto life hoping that I will find him. Or perhaps already bled out and gone.

It hurts and it breaks my heart. He barely got any time with us. Barely 2 months. And he's already gone.

I feel so guilty. I let him down. I let his rescuers down. They found him, saved him from death row and transported him all the way to his foster carer. Then he came to us. And I let the team down. He's now out there with no one to care for him.

What possessed me that morning to decide not to tie them up? To trust them to their own devices? What was I thinking? Why wasn't I thinking?! If I had tied them up, then they'd still be here now.

I look at Ginger and my heart just breaks.

She knows something is wrong. Every time she sees one of us she just rolls over and shows us her stomach. She's sticking close.

Wolfieboy says she knows she broke the code and didn't bring him home.

I think perhaps they met with something and he didn't make it. So she said her goodbyes before coming home. But I would have liked to say my goodbyes too.

And apologise.

He was fitting in so well.

I have no words.

I am just broken.

I keep on expecting to see him. I drive home every day scouting the roads. But I know it's unrealistic to believe I could. The grass is high. The terrain is rocky and hilly. When he sleeps it's hard to spot him at the best of times. And if he's seriously injured... it makes it that much harder. On the hotter days I imagine he's panting from dehydration. I just have no idea.

And the silence is killing me.

But it also brings hope that perhaps he can come back. People tell me stories about dogs who come back 1 week, 2 weeks later. But to be honest, I don't believe it. If he was going to come home, he would have come home by now.

He is chipped and collared. There is no reason for a human not to find him and return him to me. But in the bush, the dangers are many and real. Wild pigs, foxes, wombats, kangaroos, snakes. It's all there.

This has been a bad year, dog wise.

I miss Larry every night as I sit in front of the television. He used to come up and put his head on my lap and stay there. I've never had such a snoopy puppy dog. Even Ginger gave up, and these days just curls up on her bed ignoring us.

Wolfiepup started asking this morning when Larry was coming home. My answer is I don't know...

I just don't think I can do this anymore.

Larry, the Good Boy

The day started out so well. Sunshine and puppy dogs..

I caught Ginger jumping the garden fence twice - at the highest point, mind, not the lower ones. As if to show off to Larry who was better. When I went out to fetch her, I noticed Larry wasn't even paying attention. He was just sleeping outside wolfiepup's window...

I have to go into Canberra for work tomorrow and Friday and wolfieboy won't be home, so I shudder to think what mischief the two of them will get up to while I'm away.

Larry tried to play with Ginger a few times, but I don't think she was really up to it.

He's definitely pulled something though, because at one stage I noticed he was only running on 3 legs. Maybe he tried the jump same as Ginger and realised he couldn't get that high...

In the afternoon the clouds rolled in and gave us a dumping. Within 30 mins the pavers outside the front door were flooded.

But ten minutes after that the sun peeked through, so I took advantage and took the dogs out for a quick walk.

Larry's injury seemed fixed, and we trotted off. Not 20 metres down the path and a roo bounds past us. Ginger immediately yanked at her lead trying to chase it, and Larry hesitated and then started running after it also. I yanked that lead back and called to Larry. Good boy that he is, he came back promptly. Good lad. Ginger, on the other hand tried to pull at her collar to go after the roo. Goodness knows what would have happened if she hadn't been on lead. She's pretty much signed the death warrant on her ever being allowed off lead again. lol.

Larry: I'm the Good Boy, mummy!!

 Yes, yes, we know. No need to rub it in.. Poor Ginger.

Larry: Well, you know, she has to learn from someone. So she may as well learn from the best.

Larry: You know I'm the best, don't you?

adventures of the muddy kind

I made a point of washing their collars yesterday and running it through with some leather conditioner. The collars came up schmick again, and we had a lovely photo shoot in the evening.



Ginger gave me her brown eyed girl bedroom eyes..



 Some side profile work..

Ginger: My collar is so schmick and shiny! Good job, mummy!

And some light modelling..

And Larry gave me some blue steel..



This morning, confident in their ability to be found, Ginger and Larry hared off first thing.

I let them out of the laundry, and 40 mins later as I went to get them for their breakfast, I was a little confused as to why there was no one running to the gate.

Somewhere in that 40 mins between me dealing with wolfiepup the wolfies had escaped the pen and gone haring off.

I walked down to the dam, and down to where I know there is a wombat hole, calling for the dogs the whole time. Came up with nothing.

Walked halfway up to the water tank, thinking maybe they'd gone up and found a muddy patch. Nothing.

Came back to the house, to see what the go was and inspect the fence. There were no gaps in the usual spots. Wolfieboy had a look also and found nothing. The only thing that must have happened was that they jumped over the fence... Unless they were smart enough to cover their tracks this time...

I notify the neighbours to keep an eye out and decide to go down the driveway, as that is our usual walk route. Nothing.

I hear barking in the distance, but as my neighbours own maremmas that bark constantly, I didn't think anything of it. However my neighbour messaged me to say that she had seen her dogs go off in one direction, and I decided I may as well investigate, since 3 out of my 4 compass points were yielding nothing. I gave up walking down the driveway and headed home.

I get to the top of the hill, still calling for the wolfies, and who do I see haring down, but Ginger, shoe polish brown, wet to the gills.. GRRRrrr

*sigh*

I send her packing to wolfieboy and start looking for Larry, who is nowhere to be seen.

I decide that I'll have to trespass onto my neighbour's property and see if I can find Larry. Perhaps I'll discover the dam they're in. I kept on having visions of a bleeding dog wagging its tail limply at the sound of my voice. Luckily that vision did not appear. And five minutes later, I spot Larry coming back. Again, brown, wet and oh so stinky....

Back we go home.

By this time it's 9am. Wolfiepup needs to go to school and I'm still in my pjs and nightgown.

I get ourselves sorted and then head out to grab some proper dog shampoo. In the meantime wolfieboy hoses them down to get most of the stench and mud off them.

My errands all done by midday, I come home and suds them up.

All shiny and clean, they get their breakfast and then spend the rest of the afternoon drying out.

Their newly cleaned leather collars are of course nowhere near the condition I had them in yesterday. But they're going to have to stay that way until tomorrow.

Larry: Sheesh, mum.. calm down..

 How can I calm down, Larry? You managed to get your face scratched in EXACTLY the same place this morning as two days ago! Are you asking to have some butch scars on your handsome face??

Larry: I don't want to be viewed as effeminate..

Ginger: You know, Larry, she's got a point. You do look a little worse for wear..

Larry: C'mon.. with a face like this, how could you not love me more??

What makes you so adamant that I got mauled anyway? Maybe I just barrelled through your gate instead..

I mean, how could I get the exact same marks twice, anyway??

eh? eh? EH??

Yeah, good point, Larry. Well, we've moved the sleepers over, so we'll see what happens tomorrow, then, eh?

Now, STAY HOME!!!

dirty blonde snails

In the bright light of day, it turns out the hose down was not enough. There are still clumps of mud stuck to their fur.

I need to get some dog shampoo. But I think if the dogs had their way, they'd happily spend the rest of their lives licking the rest of the mud off their fur.

Friday ended up being another full work day, and the dogs got out again, despite some more fence proofing.

This time they came home without rolling in the mud.

However it looks like they met with a native animal of some description.

Larry has a graze under his eye and marks all over his head.

Ginger looks like she got half a bite on her leg.

Luckily both of them only got grazes. Larry's under his eye was the worst with a touch of bleed when I washed it out with salt water.

You can see how ineffective the rinse job here:


 On the plus side the mud has finally dried out to the same colour (ish) as their fur.

I swear they were brown the night they came home though.

Last night was the first night I came home without Larry coming straight at me. I figure he'd had too exhausting a day out.

Those beds look pretty filthy though. I think I need to make some more while I get these washed.

Ginger: I quite like them the way they are. They smell like home. Don't touch my blanky, mummy..

When blonde dogs become brown

Two days in town, dogs left to their own devices sans human, and what happens?

They find a new escape route and check out the dam.

Wolfieboy came home first to find Ginger outside trying to find a way in. Larry nowhere to be found.

I come home half an hour later, which coincides with Larry's return. Except my blonde smoochmonster has turned into a brown shoe polish dog who desperately wants to turn my work outfit into the same colour.

Suffice to say they spent most of the evening outside, got fed right before bedtime and sent straight into the laundry sans bedding.

The good news is that once the mud dries off it just falls off like powder. This is what I was met with in the morning:

 

And this is what I found on the front door.

That would have happened after they realised they weren't going to be allowed in that night. The scrabbling at the door sounded like they were knocking to be let in. lol

The next morning wolfieboy gave them a hose down.

They were NOT impressed.

Larry: That was NOT cool, mummy..

Ginger: Not cool at all..

Well neither was either of you escaping the pen and covering yourselves with filthy mud, busters..

Ginger: I don't know what you're talking about mummy. We are completely innocent..

Uhuh... Your muddy coats say otherwise. :P

Ginger: Hrmpff

So why don't you just go and dry out and chill out, eh?

Ginger: Maybe. But that's MY choice. I ain't taking no orders..

Larry: Umm.. and uh, what about me? You gonna let me off anytime soon?

Larry: Coz like, I was just following the pack. Team player and all that. Y'know?

Uhuh..

Ginger's cone of shame

We went back to the Vet today. Wolfieboy has been busy washing Ginger's wound with salt water. I did it last on Saturday evening and swore that I could smell something off and worried that it was getting infected.

So we left pretty early this morning to go to the Vet. I hadn't actually looked at it last night or this morning before we left. So I was pleasantly surprised when the Vet turned her over and we saw that it was healing. In fact it was already starting to fuse. Amazing what two nights of salt water will do. I swear you could still see the gaping skin between wound and muscle on Sat night.

I swear.

The bandages had been an absolute failure by Thursday night. With it wrapped and secure around every part of Ginger EXCEPT for the wound. And I would have sworn she'd pulled out the gauze herself on Wednesday.

I ended up cutting it all off and trying to rebandage myself, but it got me nowhere.

I half expected the Vet to rebandage her today, but she was happy with the progress and said not to bother. I explained that Ginger had kept on licking on it, so she offered me a Cone of Shame, which I happily agreed to.

Ginger, not so much..

OMG Mum, do I *have* to?!

You don't know what they're going to do to me in the school yard..

 According to wolfieboy, Ginger and Larry didn't even play with each other. She spent the entire day looking glum, while he spent it around the other side of the house..

Larry: It's embarrasing mum! How could you let her hang around with me? She's ruining my cred!

Ginger: That's mean Larry. I'd still be your friend and play with you even if you had to wear the Cone of Shame
Larry: Stop making me feel guilty..

Ginger: But seriously, mum, did you have to?!

Larry and Ginger: This sucks.