She's Dumb In Smart Ways

Fred does not like to see me go.
She's seen me get ready for a journey many times before and somehow in the depths of her fuzzy little brain remembers that she will be left behind. Given- she's left behind at a highly rated pet hotel with a heated indoor pool and loads of other dogs to play with, but as I'm not there with her- to her, she's being abandoned.

So last night, she set about to sabotage me:
1) Fred did something very unusual for her: she went up on a counter and snatched all the snacks I had laid out for my trip. I caught her with her snout halfway through my beef jerky. Still smelt it on her breathe this morning.
2) Fred went to my suitcase (packed full but not zipped close yet), tossed out everything, laid down in it, and took a nap. I couldn't help thinking she was trying to pack herself. I mentioned to her that it would have been a more successful attempt if maybe she had covered herself with a shirt.



Merry X-Mas!

Fred & I

June 15, 2004.
As the temperature had dropped to the high 60s, I decided to leave the bedroom window of my 2nd floor apartment open. Soon after my head hit the pillow, there came the howling of a dog from somewhere outside.
"Must be a neighbor's," I thought, thinking they would soon shut the thing up.

An hour later, I was getting dressed and more and more pissed off as the howling continued. Determined to find the apartment with the howling dog and beat the owner, I started off down my stairs with clenched fists- stopping when the bushes a floor underneath my bedroom window rustled, parted, and out bounded a small reddish puppy.
She was clearly starving as her ribs could be seen, and she had that spittle dogs get when they're thirsty. She cautiously approached me. Fury forgotten, I sat down on the sidewalk and held out my hand.
Slowly, she came forward. I was silent and unmoving, and did nothing to encourage or frighten her. Eventually, she was near enough to sniff my outstretched hand and licked it.

I played with the pup for about an hour, checking her for injury. She wore no collar, so no indentifying tags. I called her every female name and generic dog name I could think of (including what was her original name= "Princess") to gleam any recognition from her. The only name she responded to was "Stinky". Remembering an old joke, I asked "well, how about Fred?" She licked me and wagged her tail. Smiling, I said "Fred it is."

Not having a pup for some time, I did not know exactly what to do with it. Clearly she was missing from somewhere. I decided to keep her overnight and take her to the apartment manager in the morning to see if she knew about any missing dogs. I started back up my stairs. "Fred" was behind me and started crying when she couldn't haul her tiny body up the first step. Leaning back to pick her up, she snuggled up into the crook of the elbow.

Once inside, I made her a small meal of some deli meat and water- both of which she comsumed with gusto. She sniffed around for a few moments, whizzed on my carpet, then immediately crawed onto my thigh and fell soundly asleep.
"Great," I mused, "I have a dog."


The night was spent with little sleep as Fred would awake every 2 hours and whine until I (literally) rocked her to sleep. In the morning, I took her to Burger King and we split some breakfast sandwiches. Please note this was about 8am and the pet shops don't open until 9am- it was the only thing available. When the pet shop across the street opened, I took her in and bought her a collar and leash and some food. I figured I might as well as I had to drag her around for at least another hour. I explained the situation to the vet there and asked if the pup seemed healthy and the approximate age. The vet said she seemd fine, except for lack of food, and was about 8 weeks old.

After 10am, I walked into Tina's (my apartment manager) office with Fred in tow on her new leash. Being an animal lover, Tina immediatley hopped down from her chair to the floor to play with Fred. I explained the night's events and Tina replied that she knew she knew Fred from somewhere. She picked up the phone and dialed, her face reddening and voice hardening during the conversation.
Turns out Fred was owned by a Russian family in the apartment complex. Their two daughters were responsible for Fred and had been neglecting and torturing her (which explained Fred's fear of little girls that she later grew out of). After one of the girls swung Fred around by her back leg, Fred bit at her.As a result the parents opened the door and literally kicked Fred out.
Tina looked down at Fred (who had curled up on my left shoe) and back up at me. "Do you want to keep her," she asked. I looked down at Fred's sleeping form on my shoe, her mouth smacking in her slumber. And said with conviction:
"Yes."


And that's that. Fred has been my constant companion ever since. Loveable, hyper, good natured, and an oddball- she's a perfect match for me. She has kept me going, keep me focused and (mostly) sane more than anyone else ever in my life. In many ways, she's saved my life.
She's Fred; she's my dog.