ARRIVAL

Rosemary's arrival story is the most interesting. I was coming home one day from work and noticed a big black dog running in traffic trailing a broken leash at a busy intersection near our town. I drove by about 4 places where I could have done a u-turn before I decided I had to help, so I turned around and drove back to the intersection. When I got there two people were stopped in the right turn lane and had the frightened dog loosely corralled between them.

I stopped my station wagon and flipped on the emergency blinkers and got out. While the two others distracted the dog I was able to sneak up and step on the leash. No one was willing to take the dog -- their plan was to just release her in a nearby neighborhood. I realized she would be right back here in a few minutes and decided to take her home. So I picked up the leash and hauled the dog back to my station wagon.

I threw the end of the leash over to the back seat to one of the other persons and she pulled while I grabbed the dog and hoisted her into the back, closed the door and we were on our way home.

The dog paced around for a bit but lay down after I talked gently to her. We put her in our back yard and discovered to our delight that she had a license tag. We called and got the phone number of her owners. Although we made several calls the phone kept ringing off the hook until eventually we got messages that it had been disconnected.

Animal Control had given us the address, which was clear on the other side of town. After we realized the phone wouldn't work, we drove to the address and found a house in foreclosure with an eviction notice nailed to the front door and a junkyard in the front lawn, not the least of which was a dilapidated white pickup in the driveway missing an engine. Old water heaters and commodes made up the bulk of the junk.

We contacted one of the neighbors and they knew of the dog, companion to a 150 lb rottweiler that had lived in the back yard. The neighbor promised to let the son know we had the dog as the son was coming to the property off and on to "tidy up" things. Soon we got a phone call from the wife and she agreed to come and get the dog.

When she arrived we immediately noticed that the dog, named Sheila, recognized her and was very glad to see her. However, during the conversation we learned what had happened. After the eviction, the woman was transporting the dogs to her brother's for an overnight stay on their way to the dog pound. They had decided they could no longer keep Sheila or the rottweiler According to her story, the dogs were in the back seat, and when she got to her brother's, Sheila was missing.

Her vehicle had power windows and the only thing the woman could figure out was that Sheila must have opened the windows and jumped out. As far fetched as this story seems, there was some corroborating evidence. The broken leash could have happened when she jumped out if the loop caught on something like the door handle. The loop was separated at the stitching. Also Sheila had a very sore neck for several weeks after the event. How the woman could have missed this event I'll never understand.

In any event the dog was going right to the pound so we intervened and talked the woman into giving Sheila to us.

IN RESIDENCE

Sheila was a different kind of dog. We always joked we didn't know what dogs were really like until we got her. Daisy's Bearded Collie genes were specifically bred to foster companionship, trustworthiness, and compassion. Sheila's Chow-Aussie heritage comprises a very different strain. Bred as palace guard dogs Chows can be diligent, assertive, and stubborn. Coupled with the workaholic nature of Australian Shepherds, Sheila was a dog with a mission. She would run the perimeter of the house about every 20 minutes.

Sheila became Rosemary, or Rosie for short, but she still exhibited signs of neglect and wariness. If we would give her a new treat she would take it to her "Secret Laboratory" for examination. I observed this behavior on many occasions. She would take the treat and gently place it on the floor in a secluded place, then sniff it on all sides. She would then bite it exactly in two and intently look at the newly exposed surfaces and sniff them. If the pieces were still large, she would repeat this procedure on every piece until they were all small enough to suit her, and only then would she consume the treat. Maybe that is how she was given medicine and she didn't like being fooled.

Within the first year we were still bent on finding her a home. Eventually we got her accepted at the Helen Woodward shelter, up for adoption. After about 6 weeks, I got a call from a person at the shelter who told me in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get down there right away and take my dog back, they were going to put her to sleep. I was stunned and made arrangements to pick her up on my way home from work.

When I got to the shelter I had to go back to the clearing area. It was a library like lobby area with a closed area in which a bunch of clerks were working with files and such. I walked up to the counter and explained my presence and was told that I had to wait until they could get the only person at the facility that was able to control her. I frowned a little and went to sit in a large plush chair in the lobby.

After a while I noticed a door open in the back and a handler came in with Rosie. About halfway to the front, she spied me through a gap in the furniture and bolted away from the handler. She raced around the corner slipping and sliding on the polished floor with legs working ever faster as she struck a bee-line toward me and the chair. All the workers ran to the front counter and stared in awe as she reared up on her back legs, skidded to a halt, placing a front paw on each of my shoulders, copiously licking my face. The handler remarked, "A one person dog."

Well our only mistake in trying to find her a home was that we were determined it would be the best home possible. That, of course, turned out to be ours.

DEPARTURE

Toward the end of her life, Rosie became a bit grumpy at times, acting out-of-sorts at others. We eventually found that she had cancer. She would have good days and bad days but loved to get out and walk trails when she was able. She was stubborn to the end but we managed to give her a peaceful send off at the emergency clinic when her time came. She was a good dog that had her ups and downs, teaching us a lot about caring, patience, love, and compromise, and is missed as much as any of our other pets.