A Mutt Of A Different Breed

By most standards, Muttley was born on the wrong side of the tracks but to me he was a champion. Though he never had a good hair day in his life, no pedigreed blue-blood could have had a bigger heart, nobler bearing or sweeter temperament.

For years dogs of uncertain ancestry have been given short shrift at rescue shelters. Purebreds (about 25 – 30% of the intake numbers), by dint of their association with quality, tend to be snapped up before the humbler mongrels even get a look.

But at long last, the lowly mixed-breed is gaining status; in some measure thanks to the American Mutt-i-grees Club, which promotes the adoption of mutts from rescue groups and shelters rather than feeding into the trade of puppy mills by buying your pet from a store.

Muttley came into my life at a very tough time. Lou, who had been my love, my partner and my friend, was dying of cancer. Out of the blue one day he announced that he wanted a dog. There was no way he would be able to help in the care of a pup so I knew it would fall on me and, already, caring for Lou was a full-time day and night job with medications every four hours, a special diet, endless doctors’ appointments, being companion, advisor and restorer of faith. But how could I possibly say, “No!”. So off we went to the local pound.

Walking into the shelter there was a large window with the featured pet. “Lucky” was the doggy in the window that day. Lou took one look and said, “I want that one”. My heart fell. Poor Lucky looked like a big pink rat. He was  hairless even before the Chinese Crested breed made it trendy. With protruding bones and ugly sores over his body he had the skinniest chicken legs you’ve ever seen. Those legs had ugly rope burns on them where he’d been trussed up like the Sunday roast. Lucky’s life had obviously not been a reflection of his name and I didn’t know if I had the extra energy or the soul that it would take to look after him while also caring for Lou.

Of course, when we left the pound we left with Lucky and for me that turned out to be one of the luckiest days of my life. By the time we reached home my heart was breaking for this pitiful little creature who sat on my lap looking at me with such a mixture of trepidation and hope.

Muttley

Lou renamed our little pooch Muttley. We figured he was a maltese poodle mix with maybe a dash of something else. Whatever his “muttigree”, his personality was blue-blood all the way.

Lou died a few months after Muttley came home. Those months were a roller-coaster of anguish, anxiety and a fair amount of happiness and nonsense. But all that I’m going to tell you about another time and then you’ll understand why Muttley is the inspiration for this blog.

“If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.” ~ James Herriott