Pure Mutt With A Pedigree Heart
Prince Greets My Mother On Her Visit To His Home
Meet Prince. He was our first foundling.
Since he was left at the end of our street 10 years ago, he has paid company to no less than 10 other dogs that, like him, were dumped in the park next where we live. Each and every one of them somehow makes its way to our door.
I tell my wife "We must have a neon sign reading 'Vacancy' that only dogs can read."
Yes, we've averaged 1 new dog per year. We play host to them for a couple of days or for several months. Some have stayed with us for years. But they all find a home.
There was Montclaire, the Dalmatian and Mei Ling, the one-eye Pekingese. We fostered Piglet, the Chihuahua, and crazy Smee, the Russell Terrier. We kept Shadow, the Havanese, and had to give away Noonoo, the Pitbull.
But of all the dogs that we've washed and groomed, fed and trained, cared and loved, one stands above them all. And that is Prince. Principe Guido, we call him. And he is majestic. Calm and confident, quiet and gentle, he romps in the morning and rests his head on my lap at night.
We've yet to figure out what he is. No doubt he's mixed. Some say Corgi. Some others Australian Shepherd. We've heard Besenji. He goes by Prince. And he's now dying. We know it's age.
For he came to us when he was perhaps 3. That was a decade ago -- a long time in dog years.
The medicine has helped. His spasms are not as frequent. And he always grows calm when we place our hands on him and say "There, there, boy. It will pass. This one too will pass."
It is touching how his time with us all too soon will also pass. But with him began the many visits of unforgettable friends, that learned from our first guest to have found our door, how to enter into the hallways of our hearts.
Was Prince our foundling or were we rather the ones he found?