Little Boy Blue (32 page)

It took me more than a few minutes to fill in the deepest holes that Blue dug that morning. He would have happily continued his personal journey to the center of the earth had all of the triathletes not descended upon the beach as if it were Normandy. I was pretty sure there were no remaining sand holes where a competitor might break an ankle, but I’d been so focused on letting Blue discover a new joy in life that I’d accidentally let him decimate part of the triathlon course itself. After filling in all of the holes I could see and hoping for high tide to arrive early that day, I moved with Blue into the spectators’ area near the sand dunes and tall grass. When I cheered at the start of the race, it was as much with relief as it was to spur the competitors on. They leaped safely off the sand and into the water in a matter of seconds.

The thing about cheering at a triathlon is that the clapping and rooting come in quick spurts. Each race includes a swim course, a bicycle course, and a run course with a transition area in the middle for the competitors to switch out of their swim goggles and into their sneakers, usually taking about a minute for each transition. Spectators stand near this transition area, cheering the athletes as they zip from one course to the next. If you’re there as a fan, then you get maybe a total of four or five minutes’ time to clap and hoot and holler throughout the entire race. For the bulk of the event, which can last an hour or two, the competitors are off on the various courses, far out of sight and well beyond hearing distance. The spectators end up milling about and making small talk with one another while awaiting the big finale at the finish line.

Dogs tend to be people magnets at these events, and puppies, well, they might as well be holding a sign that reads “Get Some Free Money Here.” The slowest competitors were barely out of sight when adults and kids alike began sidling toward me and asking if they could please, oh pretty please, pet Blue. We had drawn a crowd of ten or fifteen people inside of as many minutes, most of them just as curious about Blue’s looks as they were happy to partake in a bit of early morning puppy love.

“What breed is he?” one man asked as his son stroked Blue’s backside.

“I’m not sure,” I answered. “He’s a shelter dog from the South, and he has the looks of everything from a Beagle to a Boxer to a Coonhound.”

The man brushed aside my answer like a gnat on a hot summer’s day.

“You should tell people he’s a Breagle,” he said. “You know, for brindled Beagle. Tell them he’s a new type of designer dog, like a Puggle. You could make a fortune breeding that cute little guy with those awesome tiger stripes and floppy Hound ears.”

I smiled politely, knowing that the man was trying to be complimentary. And then I heard myself say, before I stopped to think, “You know, he only cost a few hundred dollars, since he was a shelter mutt without a home. There are lots more great dogs like him who need homes and are still sitting in cages at the shelters, if you think he’s cool.”

The man’s son stopped petting Blue and looked up at his father with begging eyes. The dad looked back at me as if he wished I were a commercial that he could turn off with a flick of his television remote control.

About a half hour later, a group of kids around ten years old came over to ask if they could play with Blue. A few of them knew about dogs and waited for me to say it was okay, but two or three of the kids didn’t know how to act around dogs, and they reached toward Blue all at the same time, trying to pet his head without giving him a chance to first sniff their hands. The flurry of fingers so quickly approaching his face made Blue jump back with fear. He rolled onto his back to show submission and just lay there, frozen, until I made him feel safe again.

One of the kids asked me, “What’s wrong with your dog?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” I said, squatting next to Blue to keep him at ease. “It’s just that when you raised your hand above his head like that, he thought you were going to hit him.” I stood my tallest and raised my hand above the child’s head, to demonstrate what I meant, and the kid got the point right quick. I then lowered my hand, squatted back down between the child and puppy, and continued, “Somebody may have hit Blue before he came to live with me. That’s why he got scared. But with all dogs, you have to say hello in a way that the dog understands so that he doesn’t feel afraid.”

The kid thought this over for a moment and then asked, “Why would anybody hit a dog?”

“Some people are mean to dogs,” answered another kid who was wearing a green baseball cap atop his short brown locks. “We have a dog that somebody was mean to, too. He was kinda like this dog at first, but now he’s really happy. This dog is just shy. You have to go slow.”

And then I watched that young boy in the green ball cap plop himself down and sit cross-legged on the grass, waiting for Blue to go to him. I didn’t utter a word. I simply sat down, too, and let Blue inch past me toward the kid.

“See?” the boy in the green ball cap asked his friend. “That’s the way you do it.” He sounded like he was teaching a magic trick, making all the other kids really want to watch.

The next thing I knew, all the kids were sitting cross-legged around me as if I were a camp counselor with some kind of coveted badge for them to earn. This caught the attention of other kids at the race, who came bounding over with their moms and dads to ask if they could play with the puppy, too.

“You can play with him, but you have to go slow and not scare him,” the boy in the green ball cap answered, not even giving me a chance to reply. He was now Blue’s self-appointed defender, explaining quite clearly the way that things were going to be done on his watch. “Somebody was mean to Blue, so we have to be extra nice to him now. You can pet him, but you have to hold your hand like this, and not like this, because he’ll think you are going to hit him.”

The kids around him all practiced the correct way to hold their hands when meeting Blue. It was like watching an elementaryschool flash mob breaking into its own version of the Macarena.

As the children all gently played with Blue, I couldn’t take my eyes off the kid with the green ball cap. He was like a miniature animal-welfare activist in the making, the kind of person who would grow up and slam a backhoe into a gas chamber without asking for opinions or tolerating questions. All that this kid had needed to do was assert himself as that little group’s leader when it came to the treatment of Blue, and all of the other kids had fallen in behind him, knowing instinctively that it was the right thing to do.

If only it were so easy with adults
, I thought.
But there sure is great
hope for the future
.

For the rest of that morning’s race, I let Blue sniff his way around the grass and sand. He eventually started to grow tired from all the excitement of new people and new smells, and he wanted to sit instead of walk. It took us a few tries to find a quiet spot in the shade, and I noticed that in every place we stopped for a break, Blue positioned himself with something against his back. Sometimes, he leaned against the tall tufts of grass on the sand dunes. Other times, he sat back against large logs of driftwood. I watched him sit with his back pressed to a car tire in a parking lot, and I felt him perch himself in front of me, with my ankles serving as a wall behind him.

It wasn’t until our drive home after the triathlon, when Blue once again made it all the way without getting carsick, that I realized our ride to Tuckerton was the first time Blue had ever sat in the passenger seat on my lap. It was the first time I wasn’t driving the Jeep, the first time he didn’t have to sit in the passenger seat by himself. I hadn’t realized it during the drive down to the race, but I saw it now as I took a moment to enjoy the breeze blowing through our hair and the sun shining on our faces. Blue let his ears flap as he pushed his nose up as high as he could get it toward the clear blue sky, as if trying to inhale the day itself. He was sitting on my lap in a precise way, with his spine firmly burrowed into my belly.

Blue, I realized, finally felt safe. His stomach was okay because, for the first time in his young life, he knew that somebody had his back—and for good.

Epilogue

In its first two years of operation, Lulu’s Rescue helped to place at least 575 rescued shelter dogs from the South into permanent, loving homes in the North. I began volunteering with Lulu’s not long after adopting Blue. I started by checking the references of, and doing the home visits for, many of my fellow New Jersey residents who applied to adopt dogs. I now continue to foster puppies as Lulu’s is working to find them permanent homes. So far, I’ve helped at least twenty-five shelter dogs from the South end up with loving families in the North. Twelve of them including Izzy and Summer have lived with Blue and me as fosters.

Rhonda Beach’s new rescue group Chances Angel Rescue and Education, between its creation in 2010 and autumn 2011, found homes for 391 dogs. Most of them would likely have been killed inside Person County Animal Control had she not inter- vened. When I met Beach in August 2011, I donated about one hundred fifty collars for her to place around the necks of the next dogs to be saved. Dr. Wendy Royce in the POP-NC mobile clinic told me that she would look for the collars and think of Blue every time another dog from Person County arrived to get spayed or neutered.

Annie Turner remains president of Canine Volunteer Rescue in Person County. The dogs I saw at her house have yet to be located.

In January 2012, North Carolina officials inspected the gas chamber at Person County Animal Control and issued a state license certification for the year. As of this writing, the gas chamber continues to be used regularly.

Ron Shaw remains director of Person County Animal Control, which changed its hours of operation. They used to be 9
A.M.
till 4
P.M.
Monday through Friday. The facility is now open 9
A.M.
till 4
P.M.
Monday through Thursday, 9
A.M.
till 7
P.M.
Friday, and 11
A.M.
till 2
P.M.
Saturday. The hope is that the new hours will make it easier for working people to meet dogs available for adoption.

Because I volunteered to take Summer and Izzy as foster dogs, their foster families in North Carolina were able to welcome two more dogs who were on death row at Person County Animal Control. They were a Golden Retriever mix named Cal and a Hound/Shepherd mix named Luke. Rhonda Beach and her volunteers at CARE found homes for them both.

Not long after Blue came to live with me, I finally, after thirteen years and nearly two hundred thousand miles, traded in my Jeep Wrangler for a new car. Blue jumps willingly, and sometimes eagerly, into the Honda CR-V, which offers a much smoother and quieter ride. He seems to especially enjoy looking at the road ahead while warming his rear end on the heated upholstery.

What You Can Do

If you spent three days reading this book, then in the time it took you to reach this page, as many as 42,000 companion animals died in American shelters. This book tells the story of where Blue came from, in North Carolina, but there are many shelters nationwide that struggle daily to help great dogs just like him. Please pass your copy of
Little Boy Blue
to a friend so more people can understand the scope of the crisis. Change begins with education.

If you want to bring a dog home, then please adopt one from a local shelter or through a rescue group on a website like
Petfinder.com
. Puppies and purebreds are almost always the first to find homes, so if you are willing, then consider adopting a dog who is at least two years old or is a mixed breed.

Dogs who have been in foster care after being pulled from shelters often have well-known temperaments, including testing with children and cats. It is reasonable to ask any rescue to put you in direct contact with a dog’s foster family so you can get additional information. It is also reasonable to ask the rescue what behavioral tests were done to determine the dog’s temperament. If a rescued dog is in a kennel or shelter, it is reasonable to ask the rescue if you can meet the dog there to evaluate him yourself. If you are meeting a rescued dog the day of his transport, it is your right to evaluate the dog upon arrival and decide whether to go through with the adoption or not.