Shiloh, The Life and Times of my Best Friend is the story of a mixed breed hound dog who was adopted into our family from the humane society. Her story is at times humorous, at times reflective and finally somewhat sad. The story will remind you of all those pets that are at times willful and stubborn, but provide their human friends with so much true companionship. Shiloh's spirited nature brought our family many years of entertainment and happiness. The book is an enjoyable read for the entire family. We hope you enjoy the fourth work from the pen of Dennis Lassi, Shiloh, The Life and Times of my Best Friend.
Shiloh, The Life and Times of my Best Friend
By Dennis LassiiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2009 Dennis Lassi
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4401-3818-8Chapter One
The First Time We Saw 'No Name,' January 1994
It was a bitterly cold Sunday afternoon in January of 1994, as Beth and I made our way to the front door of the Pet Smart pet store in Colonie, New York. Colonie is a suburb to the west of the New York State capital of Albany. From the outside looking in, we saw a tri-colored oversized beagle-like creature being guided through the store on a leash. We assumed the dog was a pet that was being brought to the store to help pick out his or her required provisions.
Beth and I had just been married the previous September. Being in our late thirties, we had not gone into the marriage blindly, but had discussed and agreed on a number of marital details such as finances, family holiday schedules, etc. We had also agreed that we would get a dog to expand our family. I was never a dog person and did not really understand the point of taking care of these high maintenance creatures. Beth, on the other hand, had grown up with dogs. While she lived with her parents in the western New York city of Jamestown, there was Spotty, then Herman, and Buddy and Sandy. When she was on her own in the Albany area, one of her best friends, Margaret, was tragically killed in a car accident, which resulted in Beth inheriting a mutt named Joey. That affable dog had to be put down a few months before we were married. That was my first visit to the vet. Great! It was a poor introduction to the world of dog ownership. Nevertheless, I had agreed to Beth's appeal for a dog and today we were starting our journey toward that goal.
Since Beth considered me a sport to go along with the dog idea, she was letting me take the lead on what type of dog to add to our family. I did not want to get a huge dog nor did I want one that was too small; just a mid-size model would be fine. I was thinking we'd like something similar to the nice sporty dog that we had just seen from the outside of the store. As we entered the store that tri-color canine previously spotted was nowhere to be seen.
The Menands Humane Society had brought various animals to the store for adoption. Beth and I both thought that saving the life of a dog, who would otherwise be put down as more dogs entered the pound, would be a good thing. I wanted to save the life of a stray, but was not thrilled about going to the pound and having to look at the dogs we would not be selecting. We made our way through the store and I gazed at the prices of necessities for our prospective household member. Having a dog was not going to be cheap!
In the back of the store, we found two cages with dogs that were up for adoption. In the first cage was a dark, hairy, mid-sized dog that seemed to be a mix between a chow, shepherd and a wolf. The dog seemed a little too rough. There was a handwritten tag hanging on the cage that identified the dog as 'Bear.' To the right of the first cage was another, which contained that very dog who we had previously seen from outside the store. The tag on this dog's cage identified the dog as 'No Name.' Not much of a name I thought to myself. The cute little thing was a classic dog. It was tri-colored, black, brown and white, with characteristic beagle-like features, but was definitely not a full-blooded beagle because it was much bigger; it looked to be about forty pounds.
An affable young woman who was running the adoption clinic saw our interest and opened up the cage to let us pet little 'No Name.' She explained the dog was female and had been picked up as a stray sixteen days earlier on New Year's Eve night. Looking closer at the dog, I could see that there seemed to be as much hair connected to 'No Name' as there was lying loose on the dog's back. 'No Name' was really shedding. We tried to pet the dog, but she recoiled from our touch. The outgoing woman running the clinic kept explaining that she would be a great dog. She was just scared because she was in such a strange setting and she was still very young. The young woman kept trying to explain how wonderful the dog would be for us. She had such an obvious love of dogs and seemed so very much to want to find homes for these dogs before their time was up. Often, with the large number of strays, that time was not very long.
We continued to try to pet the dog, but she seemed very much afraid. I explained to the clinic operator that 'No Name' was just the type of dog we were looking for, but she seemed to have a real shedding problem and worse yet, didn't seem to like us that much. In addition, I like to make sure of things, and technically, this was the first dog we had seen. My shopping style is to look at several choices before selecting the best one. My feeling was that a certain amount of exploration was necessary to ensure we had seen a broad base of the market. The dog was just so cute and seemed desperate for a home. The young woman continued to plead in an engaging manner. Finally, Beth and I made a decision. We would decide later! The dog was just what we were looking for, but her shedding and fear of us slowed us down. We explained to the young woman that we needed time to think.
Beth and I drove to a Borders Bookstore a few blocks down Wolf Road and wandered the aisles talking about the pros and cons of little 'No Name.' Finally, after a protracted recess we made a real decision. We would adopt 'No Name,' the oversized beagle-like dog! Feeling pleased with our decision, we drove back to the pet store, confidently strode to the back of the store to sign the papers to adopt our new pet, but saw that the clinic was over. All the cages were gone and the young woman running the clinic was nowhere to be seen. It was as if the entire scene we had experienced only a short time ago had just vanished. We ran to the front of the store and were informed that the clinic was over and that the animals had gone back to the pound. It looked like our desire to adopt 'No Name' would not be fulfilled after all.
Sadly, we drove back home. We tried to call the Humane Society, but there was no answer. Perhaps, since the dog seemed so afraid of us, it was for the best that the clinic had vanished into thin air before we had made our decision. It looked like little 'No Name', that cute, scared, shedding, oversized beagle, would not be joining our family after all.
Chapter Two
The Next Day - Martin Luther King Day
The next morning, besides the temperature remaining in the below zero range, we had the added bonus of an intense and exceptionally steady snow. Yes, winter was in full force in upstate New York. One good thing was that it was January 16th, the day that New York State was celebrating Martin Luther King Day. Being State employees, we both had the day off.
After some discussion at the breakfast table, we agreed that Beth would call the shelter to determine if little 'No Name' had checked back into her quarters. Beth called and asked if there was a beagle-like creature there who had been to the adoption clinic the previous day. After a few moments, the person on the other end of the phone announced to my confused wife that there were no dogs resembling a beagle. Did we have the wrong place, did someone else already adopt little 'No Name,' or had the clinic, all the animals and that friendly woman truly just vanished as it had appeared when we had returned to the store the previous day?
Whatever happened, we decided that it was not in the cards for us to adopt little 'No Name.' After an hour of working on a variety of household chores, I told Beth that it did not make any sense that the dog had simply disappeared. I would call the Humane Society back and ask them to look again for the now missing oversized beagle.
I called the pound and asked about the same dog that Beth had asked about just a little over an hour and a half earlier. The guard checked and this time there was a beagle-like dog that must have magically appeared in a cage. We decided that we would drive down to Menands to see if little 'No Name' was really at the pound. We bounded into Beth's green Sable station wagon and made the twelve-mile trip in record time of an hour and a half. This was due to the fact that we had to drive through a blazing snowstorm at a pace of about five miles per hour, straight down our main drag on Western Avenue.
We finally arrived at the Menands Humane Society, an older ashen building. It was a place that I really wanted to avoid, considering what might be the fate of the other animals. We checked into the front desk and asked about the beagle-ish dog that we had met yesterday. My plan was to keep my head down and move straight to the cage housing little 'No Name.' Unfortunately, the first cage to our right contained Bear from yesterday. I was hoping that Bear's was the new arrival cage, as the dogs were moved from cage to cage in a circle so that when the cages ran out so did the life of the poor, innocent animal. I did a fairly good job of keeping my head down after seeing Bear, but I did notice an oversized red spaniel in the cage to the left. The warden took us to a cage with a beagle-ish dog and at first, we were not sure it was the same dog because she had looked so much bigger yesterday in a miniature crate. Now the mutt appeared very small, standing all alone in a large cage. The barking and general mayhem, combined with thoughts of the potential fate of some of the less fortunate animals, made me want to get out of this dwelling as soon as possible. We noticed all the loose hair on her back and knew that this was little 'No Name' from the pet store. We signed various papers, including one agreeing to have the dog neutered within a thirty-day period, and finally, we were the proud owners of an oversized mixed beagle. We were given a temporary leash that appeared to have a half-life of about the trip home. We strolled with the dog to the outside through a small door, but rather than jumping for joy at being freed from prison, the dog started pulling to go back inside. Hopefully, it was related to the fact that it was snowing and about five degrees below zero, rather than her choosing the pound over living with this strange new couple.
Still pulling, we got the dog into the Sable. Beth usually does the driving when we ride together. I'm not sure why, but that's what we do. So it was little 'No Name' and me sitting in the backseat as we drove away from the residence of the doomed.
As I petted our new housemate, I explained that I was sorry if it would be confusing, but we just didn't know her name. Beth suggested that I choose a name for her. I am a Civil War enthusiast and consequently this dog's new name would be Shiloh. She would be named after the battle in Tennessee early in the war. In addition to reflecting my interest in the war, I thought it was a cool sounding name. We found out later there is a series of books about a beagle named Shiloh.
We proceeded to a pet store and got the necessary dog supplies including food, a leash and collar. We already had some of the necessities such as bowls and beds, as they were Joey leftovers. Beth asked me why I got a blue collar for a female dog, but other than that one gaff, I seemed to have gotten the proper supplies. We drove back to our home on Torquay Boulevard in Guilderland and walked Shiloh from the garage up the steps and into her new home. We barricaded the entry to the dining area with chairs and confined her to the family room and kitchen until she got familiar with her new house. We were not sure if she was house trained nor did we know anything else about this little dog. All we knew was that a very cute, very scared, oversized beagle was now a member of Clan Lassi.
Chapter Three
First and Last Bath
On the first day at home with Shiloh we were having a great time getting to know our new puppy dog. She was still scared, but was starting to become less tense in her new environment. Beth and I decided to heed the advice of the young woman from the adoption clinic who said that a nice bath would get rid of the excess hair that had been flying around and off of Shiloh's body, mainly her back, all day.
There is a sink in our first floor laundry room that is fairly large and is deeper than most basins. Beth filled the sink with lukewarm, slightly soapy, water in preparation for Shiloh's first bath. Beth opined that dogs like baths and it made sense that they, like people, would want to feel fresh and clean. I picked up Shiloh by placing my arms under each end of her belly and raised her up. An incredulous look of disbelief appeared on our new dog's face. She evidently could not believe that someone was picking her up and was doubly shocked that she was being placed in the soapy water. While Shiloh constantly rearranged her position, Beth rubbed her down with a towel and then ran water over her to get rid of the soapy water. Once the soap was off her body, I picked her up again. The look of disbelief turned into a blood-curdling shriek.
Once Shiloh was back on solid ground, she started running around wet. Fortunately we were able to get a hold of her and dry her off so she was simply damp. Within a few minutes, Shiloh tapped on the door, indicating she needed to go out and do her job in our fenced in backyard. Without checking to make sure she was completely dry, I let her out and the damp dog began running over the frozen landscape. She ran as if she was a crazed beast that had been given her freedom after years of captivity. The only positive thing about the temperature being in the minus range was that it was so cold that the water in the in-ground pool in the backyard had frozen. We watched as Shiloh ran back and forth over the covered swimming pool. I had assumed, but you know what happens when you assume, that she would just go out and do her business, since she was still wet and it was so exceedingly cold. However, the combination of the wet and cold just seemed to turn her into a crazed banshee. I tried to get her inside, but she kept running around the yard as her fur was starting to freeze. She ran to the edge of the diving board which was about two feet above the level of the snow. It appeared she was preparing to perform a swan dive into the frozen pool, but, fortunately, once on the board she looked down to each side and then decided against the lunge. She turned around, ran past me and into the house. There, Beth toweled her down so that the frozen fur could begin to thaw.
We agreed that after her next bath it was probably for the best to totally dry Shiloh before we let her out in the winter. The agreement was unnecessary because that was the last bath for Shiloh. Any effort to give her a bath was met with her running around hysterically and any effort to pick her up was met with cries that were not just hysterical, but seemed to be raised from some other realm. These were screams of torment, unmatched in our known dominion.
You see, Shiloh was teaching, and Beth and I were her students. She was instructing us that she was not to take a bath, and under no circumstances, was she to be picked up. We learned our lesson well. There would be sponge baths from time to time, but no full baths that involved being raised into the air, not even a few inches. The first and second rules from Shiloh had been learned. It would take additional training, but Shiloh was instructing us on what would and what would not be acceptable.
Chapter Four
Destroying Sofas, Footrests, Joey's Beds and Yes, the Remote Control
During the first few weeks after Shiloh had joined our happy family there was a series of incidents that made entering the house after work an adventure. A dreadful and scary adventure, but an adventure nonetheless. During the first days that Shiloh lived with us, Beth was coming home at lunchtime to let her out, but that was not a full-time solution. As unfair as it was, Shiloh would need to hold her movements all day because we both worked full-time. Shiloh was good at holding it in and we got into a pattern of feeding her after her evening walk. The real problem revolved around her getting too bored. We confined Shiloh to the family room and kitchen, putting up a gate to the rest of the house. It was a good thing, a very good thing, that we had put up that gate.
As we came home the first time we had left her alone all day, we entered the house eager to see our new family member. What we found were sofa cushions ripped to shreds. Another day we found a hand-me-down dog bed previously owned by Joey that was not just ripped up; all of the white cotton-like substance previously comprising the filler was spread out all around the family room. About seventy-five percent of the dark brown rug was covered with this white material making it look like the snow from outside had made its way into the Lassi family room.
This went on for a number of weeks. Some evenings, as we tentatively made our way into the house, we would find everything in place. All we would find was just an excited, cute little dog ready to greet the returning workforce. Other evenings we would see the same happy dog there to greet us, but the dog bed, the sofa or some other useful household article would be destroyed. The final count of major furniture items was: three of Joey's old dog beds, a sofa, a chair and two footrests.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Shiloh, The Life and Times of my Best Friendby Dennis Lassi Copyright © 2009 by Dennis Lassi. Excerpted by permission.
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