It was a cold, cold morning that 1st of February 2003.  As I walked to the barn to feed the horses,emus, chickens and cats, I could hear a faint whimpering - a small chorus of voices from the neighbor's yard next door.  It was sleeting, which is unusual for our area, hard cold pellets.  I changed direction and went over to the fence between the properties to check on Lady.  Maybe she was tangled again or maybe just hungry.  She had been tied to a tree next door for two years.  Many times my old body precariously climbed clumsily over the fence to free Lady from bondage around a bush, or make sure she had water or food.  She was always so appreciative of my help, ignoring any food I would give her in favor of some kind words and pats.  I had asked if I could have her when she was younger, but denied.  Oh well, I would do my best from ‘my side of the fence’.   Everyone in my family looked out for her. I boldly helped her in plain sight and the neighbors knew they better not say anything.  But I had a lot of animals of my own and I didn't want to cause hard feelings for fear of retaliation from the neighbors so I really couldn’t help Lady as much as I wanted to, and as much as she needed me to.

That cold February I looked over the fence and saw, to my great surprise, that the faint whimpering I heard was coming from a mound of puppies.  They were squirming to be under the pile, where it was warmer.  And they were crying.  Lady looked at me from a few feet away from them, forlorned.  The pups and their mom only had a tarp, not for protection from the rain or sleet, but under them.  Not doing much good.  That was it.  I called the neighbors and said if it was ok, I'd like to get Lady and the pups and put them in one of my empty stalls.  I guess from my tone they knew they couldn't argue with me.  I wanted to be careful and diplomatic and then if that didn't work, I'd get tough.  Anyway, it worked, and they agreed to let me get them.  I met the wife in the yard with a red wagon full of puppies.  The woman said "She's had 14 but 5 have died, frozen to death. I told my husband he needed to build them a dog house or something."...Yeah, right.

I filled the stall with clean, dry shavings, attached some of my heat lamps (used for chickens), and we spent the rest of the next nine weeks caring for Lady and her puppies.  The puppies had frost-bitten feet and tails but none ended up losing them or even being disfigured.  They all were wormed and had shots, and as soon as I could, I took Lady to the vet and had her spayed.  This will not happen to her again. 

Luckily, the neighbors didn't want Lady back.  They kind of avoided me about the subject because they knew I could have reported them about the puppies, and I did them a great service by finding homes for all the puppies.  They didn't 'lose' anything.

Well, I did find homes for them all, except one.  Lady is a 98 pound jet black long haired lab/retriever and had 4 pups like her, plus 3 blonde pups and one that was colored just like a rottweiller.  Then, there was "Jabba". 

Jabba was the fattest, laziest pup of them all.  Tricolored like blended paint strokes, black, brown, tan...  His wrinkled forehead and the way he sat around watching all his "gorgeous" siblings run and play earned him the serious name of "Jabba the Hut". (Star Wars, ha!).  He turned two on February 1, 2005.  And he is a big guy, weighing about 70 pounds.  He is shaped more like a rottweiller, and because he looks so serious with his wrinkled brow, most people are afraid of him at first.  He has this serious look like he's trying to understand you, without doing the normal 'dog head-tilting' thing.   I was kind of afraid to give him away, there was too much interest in him from certain men that had come by to see the puppies.  I wouldn't want any dog to be trained to be mean.  I think that is what attracted some of these guys.  Besides, my son had picked him out.  It was settled.

Now, my health has forced me to sell my farm.  I've broken my promise to Lady that she would be safe with me forever.  I've sent species after species of my animals from my farm to new homes.  I moved my 79 year-old mother.  My 15 year-old son and I will be the last to go, in about a week.  We can take my Chihuahua (whom I adopted several months ago and is a lot of company as I lay around a lot) and our two house cats, one of which my son is very attached to.  We're moving to town. 

Lady and Jabba want to be petted.  They would rather be petted and talked to than anything.  Many times recently, Lady wants me to pet her before she'll eat.  Just a few pats and a 'good girl'...that is all she wants.  They love being combed and brushed, and can lie down and be handled all over.  My granddaughters who are 2-1/2 and 3-1/2 hug them, and have pulled tails and are totally ignored.  (Of course, I didn't let that happen but once - when I saw it).  The tails are wagging.  Even my younger granddaughter, who seems to have some of her grandmother's love to feed animals in her genes, can take food out of their bowl and they'll dutifully and carefully eat it from her hand, even if they're full, or it is left over from the day before.  They just want to please people.  If they are adopted together that is fine, but be prepared to do a lot of petting.  They will vie for your attention, never aggressively, just with strong nudges - 'no pet me’, ‘no pet me'.  I think the best possible scenario would be for each to have a home of their own, family of their own, and all the attention they can get.  Either way, they are friendly with many other size doggies, cats, and a host of farm animals. 

Even if I can't fulfill my promise maybe someone out there can.