A Dog's Tail, uh, I Mean Tale
Hi! My name is Dylan. I am a seven-year-old Golden Retriever and this is my story! I was born in late November in 1992. I had four brothers and five sisters. I don't remember how old I was at the time, a few weeks I think, but anyway I was lying close to my mother and she rolled over and landed on my leg. The result was I started howling in pain and my leg was severely bruised. My mother's masters picked me up and took me to the veterinarian. I did not know what was going on at the veterinarian’s office but I saw him shaking his head. I did not realize it then but I guess he did not think I was going to live. But the veterinarian did give me some shots to ease the pain.
When I got home, my leg started to hurt again and I started to howl in pain. My mother's masters spent the next 48 hours warming my leg with a heated oven mitt. But the pain was still so intense, I did net think I was going to survive. But after a few days, the pain started to go away. Pretty soon there was no pain at all. Finally after a week, I was able to go back to my mother and my brothers and sisters.
I had a great time. I was with my mother who was feeding me, bathed me with her wet tongue, and boy I tell you that felt good. She was also careful not to step on my leg again. I also had a great time playing with my brothers and sisters. We got into everything. We would fight over clothing, playing tug 0' war with it. We were teething and were chewing everything in sight. We would chase each other and have mock fights. When we tired and got hungry, there was always mom around for comfort and a good meal.
One day when our mom's masters took her out for her walk, we waited, as usual, for her return. But we waited and waited, but she did not show up. When it was time for us to eat, instead of our mother's milk, we had this strange food in our dish. Well, we were hungry and if you will excuse the expression, pigged out. Pretty soon we got used to the idea mom was not coming back, but I still miss her.
Well, I thought to myself, at least I still have my brothers and sisters. But soon after mom left, a bunch of strangers started showing up in the basement where we were kept. They started to play with us and we chewed at their clothing. Then after a while, these strangers started to take my brothers and sisters away. The way I figured it out was that these Strangers were taking us home as pets where they would play with us all of the time. I anxiously waited my turn. I put on my best show so I would be picked. But as more and more strangers came, no one was anxious to pick me. I gathered it was because I had a bad leg! I was getting really depressed. .A week had passed and there was only my brother and I left. I had given up all hope of somebody taking me home with them. Then on a Friday night, a young man came down to look at us. He played with us, but I figured he would choose my brother. Then I saw this strange young man talking to my mother's master and then he looked over at me with a sad look on his face. All of a sudden a big grin came across his face and the next thing I knew this young man was picking me up and taking me home with him. I was so happy, I started licking his face or in dog terms, giving him kisses. When he would address me, he kept calling me Dylan. It took a while, but I figured out that was my name Hmm, I thought. Dylan! I liked that. I saw my reflection in the mirror and I do look like a Dylan. I found out later that I was named after a famous musician, Bob Dylan. I felt really honored. My new master took me into his jeep. As he prepared to take me to my new home, I felt sad that I was leaving my birthplace. But at the same time, I looked forward to living with somebody whom I would have all to my self. To show my appreciation to my new best friend, I sat on his lap on our way to my new home.
Dylan 1992
