Another One Such

This happens every summer. It's as regular as the 4th of July fireworks or the running of the bulls in Pamplona. A castoff pet finds us and presents us with an ethical dilemma. This year's installment is a bird dog.

Sometimes these castoffs make us feel like matchmakers. Our hound friend Muzzy was delivered into the arms of a friend who remains smitten by the leggy pooch's charms. You can find out much more about Muzzy at her person's blog. We also learned that a fluffy 10-pound puppy will bowl over all the customers at the lumber yard, who will pore over their address books to find it a home. The puppy grew into a 100 pound bruiser named Samson, so we really dodged a bullet on that one.

And our cat, previously profiled with her rat, was another tourist at CGF who never checked out of the kitty hostel.

Animals gravitate to CGF, perhaps because we're on a creek, or perhaps because our phone number is written on some bathroom wall. My parents were, if possible, even easier marks than we cranky girls are. Dogs with names like Queenie and Ladybird became recipients of hot oatmeal on cold days and table scraps on balmy days; one notably followed Dad to town and waited in his truck while he ate breakfast at the cafe. The only dog ever ejected from CGF was a purebred boxer. When he pulled the laundry off the line one too many times, my mother took him into the vet clinic and asked that he be euthanized. The vet intern was horrified that she would want to destroy such a valuable animal. Kap told him: "He's yours, buddy." Maybe his new owner used a drier.

This female dog looks like a German shorthaired pointer. She walks with a limp and has the patience of a saint. She has been intensively yammered at, pulled on, and shampooed with dish soap, all without protest. She still chooses to sleep in the yard. If you have any birdhunting needs, please let us know and she's yours, buddy. Otherwise, we'll get back to you on how we resolve this summer's ethical dilemma.

--MCG