From: jpk@Ingres.COM (Jon Krueger)
Subject: a story about George
Reply-To: jpk@Ingres.COM (Jon Krueger)
Organization: Ask Computer Systems Inc., Ingres Division, Alameda CA 94501
Date: 22 Nov 92 07:43:40 GMT

He came in as a stray, a big reddish-brown retriever/shepherd mix.
Fine health, a little heavy-set, didn't bark much.  Someone remembered
he'd been picked up as a stray before, several times, and had been
redeemed by his owner each time.  But he had no collar or ID.  And
this time, his owner didn't show.  So we really didn't know his name.
We called him George.

One reason George might have strayed was clear: he wasn't neutered.
And it was hardly waiting for maturity, he was at least 5 years old.
His teeth were in great shape but his fur was greying around the nose.

Where was the owner?  We'll probably never know.  Remembering that
that George had been in before isn't remembering the owner.  Why
didn't he reclaim George, as he had before?  Also unknown.  No health
or behavior problems, "nothing wrong with the dog", but the owner
never showed.  The waiting period expired for the owner to reclaim his
dog.  George became available for adoption.

I took him on walks.  He was great on leash.  He didn't pull or jump.
He had a passable sit and down.  "OK" probably meant "let's go".  We
went on 30 minute walks around town.  Even stopped at a garage sale.
When we'd get to street corners he stopped and waited.  Clearly he was
accustomed to waiting for someone to indicate when to cross.

As soon as he got outside he would find a place to urinate and
defecate.  The usual sign of a housebroken dog.  When we met other
people on walks, his behavior was good.  He didn't rush toward them or
shy away from them.  At the garage sale a seven year old girl was
asked by her mother "do you want to pet him?"  No, she sure didn't.
From her point of view this was a monster, an animal twice her size.
I kept George on short leash but it was no problem.  He was probably
used to kids.  He neither approached nor avoided her.

He was placid and well behaved in his kennel.  But people walked by
him.  Too big.  Some folks are intimidated by a big dog.  Others
realistically assess their inability to keep and care for a big dog.
Others are put off by strays, or older dogs.  They didn't try him on
leash, didn't spend time with him.

We don't have arbitrary schedules for when animals are euthanized.  As
long as there is room we keep them.  But he had been here for over
three weeks.  New dogs were arriving.  And almost no one had shown an
interest in him.

Tuesday I gave him a bath.  I didn't think he was dirty. I was trying
to get people to notice him.  Turned out he was filthy.  After three
shampoo applications, the water finally ran clean.  Yet he was the
easiest to give a bath to of all dogs I've done so far.  For over an
hour of bath, by a person he didn't know well, he put up with it all.
Then another hour of drying, brushing, flea check.  He rolled over.  I
combed fleas out of his underside.  Folks commented on how cooperative
he was.  But no one asked about adoption procedures.

Today (Saturday) George was still here.  We had several new dogs in.
I knew it was near the end.  George's coat was still clean, he didn't
need another bath.  I took another long walk with him.  I brought him
back to his kennel and gave him a chew toy.

Then I turned to other tasks.  I walked other dogs.  I bathed and
removed burrs from a four month old terrier mix.  You do what you can.
You know that dogs like George are on the long end of the odds.  You
know that other animals need help too.  I got the flea comb, started
checking every animal for fleas.  It's also a chance to check for
cuts, sores, infections, general health of skin and coat.

I was in the grooming room, removing fleas from three kittens, when
volunteer opened the door and said "did you know George is being
adopted?"

I stuffed the kittens into the carrier and ran to the front office.
George was there, waiting as the adoption paperwork got filled out.

I made the new owner's acquaintance, told him what I had learned about
George.  We talked a while.  I learned that he was looking for a dog
like George, an older dog, he's an older guy.  He gave me his name and
address so I can come visit George.  We walked out to the parking lot.
The car was a Pinto wagon.  I opened the door, front passenger side.
George jumped in, moved to the back.

-- Jon
--
Jon Krueger  jpk@ingres.com