There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face.
- Bernard Williams (1929-2003)
HERE I COME TO GIVE YOU SOME LOVE
Inspired by Bernard Williams (1929-2003)'s quote, "There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face". The titled responsion is...
They had found him running wild with the Coyotes in the Kamloops desert, 7 feet tall when standing on his hind feet, with the ability to stop a grown man in his tracks with just a look.
The tiny little girl, wandering down the aisle of the pound, everyone’s eyes elsewhere thinking the cute fluffy dogs would entertain her, but her eyes had met his.
They looked at each other with inquisition as she quietly lifted the latch, walked in, put her arms around the neck of what could only be mistaken for a miniature horse and said ‘mine’!
Everyone around her panicked, “Oh god, we don’t know how he is with children!”; however, she knew she had found her protector, aptly named Conan.
He was the perfect fit for living off the grid, as a fluffy puppy could never provide what she needed out there. Never far from her side, with him, she was safe; safe from the bears, safe from the cougar, and safe from man.
That year on the claim in Quesnel, he did his job well, ensuring that the bear cubs weren’t hiding in the forts she’d built, and watching over her as they both tried to make friends with the beavers.
The porcupine, however, wasn’t such a great friend to him; he left his mark, well, a few of them. Being a good 2 hours out of town, the men tried to help him. Five of them holding him down, a broomstick in his mouth, he bit clear through it and tossed the men aside. An emergency trip to the vet was in the works.
You wouldn’t have wanted to be the vet that day, a 180-pound horse with teeth that could tear you to shreds, in pain. However, instinctively Conan knew he could trust him, allowing the vet to sedate him and pull every last quill out.
A few months later, Conan met Bliss, and they had puppies, 14 beautiful bouncing bundles of joy that needed to be bottle-fed. They were quite the handful, so many cute little wiggly, fluffy things.
We had gone to town that day, and when we got back, it turned out someone had dognapped the puppies. They took every last one of those 14 pups, and in the process, shot Conan. We rushed him to the vet, and they were able to place a metal rod in his leg, and he recovered very well.
A month later, October and winter was setting in, we’d temporarily moved into a hotel on the outskirts of Quesnel. A knock came at the door; the dognappers wife had turned in all but one of the puppies to the SPCA; it turns out, 14 puppies that were going to be miniature horses were too much for her.
The puppies joined us in the hotel bathroom for a while, all but two were rehomed. Life was changing and it was time to migrate elsewhere, as we had moved into a converted school bus, and were slowly making our way to North Carolina. Mike and Silver stayed with us for a year before they were rehomed; turns out three humans, three small horses, and two cats are a bit tight in a few hundred square feet of living space.
But Conan, as we shifted and moved from BC to California to North Carolina, and everywhere in between, there was always room for him.
Never once did I get a birthday spanking... Wonder why?
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