Amy Newmark - Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dogs Done It Again!: 20 Stories About Those Goofy, Mischievous Dogs - from Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dog Really Did That?

Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dogs Done It Again!

20 Stories about Those Goofy, Mischievous Dogsfrom Chicken Soup for the Soul:

The Dog Really Did That?

Published by Chicken Soup for the Soul, LLC www.chickensoup.com

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Front cover photo courtesy of iStockphoto.com/LexiTheMonster (LexiTheMonster)

Photo of Amy Newmark courtesy of Susan Morrow at SwickPix

Cover and Interior by Daniel Zaccari

Distributed to the booktrade by Simon & Schuster. SAN: 200-2442

ISBN: 978-1-61159-311-2

Changing the world one story at a time

www.chickensoup.com

I Saved a Dog

Mix a little foolishness with your serious plans.

It is lovely to be silly at the right moment.

~Horace

I save dogs quite frequently. Its a deep-seated instinct in me. A forlorn, lost, four-legged hairball running down the street is all it takes to set me off. I go into a frenzy. MUST. SAVE. DOG. My senses tingle; my synapses fire. My heart pounds and my breathing becomes raspy. Everything blurs and I become intensely and profoundly focused.

He must be scared. She must be hungry. He needs me. She might get hurt.

I become a determined woman on a mission a mission to save the dog.

And, usually, I am quite successful. Most of the time, I save the dog and the day. Two weeks ago, I saved Cookie. I was driving down the street when I noticed a brown blur in my peripheral vision. My heightened instincts kicked in. I assessed the situation: Yes, its a lost dog and gasp its barreling for the major intersection ahead!

Immediately, I switched into Superhero Doggy Saver mode and started weaving in and out of traffic. The dog was slipping from sight, so I had to take fast action. I screeched my car to a stop, halted traffic, and ran at lightning speed toward the runaway dog.

I pushed a skateboarding kid out of the way. Hey, old lady! he shouted at me. But it was okay because he didnt know I was a superhero at work. I flew farther down the street. Just before the dog met with certain death from an oncoming car, I scooped him up.

I am sure I heard cheers and hurrahs. Horns were honking. My girls said, Oh, my gosh, Mom! You almost killed us! To which I responded with Super Hero Honesty, Im so sorry! I forgot you were in the car.

Cookie had a tag, and we called the number. We returned Cookie to her grateful owner and counted it as another successful mission. Just another day in Superhero Doggy Saver land.

But my family thinks I might be a tad obsessed. Theyve wondered if there is a therapy group for people like me. DRA Doggy Rescue Anonymous. But I cant help it. When I think of a lost dogs fear and helplessness and innocence, it affects me in a way I cant describe. Its an emotional trigger. Even watching rescue videos on Facebook evokes it. When my girls walk in and see me at my computer with the tissue box, they sigh and say, Moms watching dog-rescue videos again.

But even if I do go a little overboard, theres no denying that I have saved a lot of dogs. Owners thank me, and at the end of the day, tears turn to joy. Its a wonderful, glorious, worthwhile thing that I do.

Last week I sprang into action once again. I looked out our front window and saw a beautiful German Shepherd sniffing around in our front yard. Wow. Now, lost dogs were even coming right to me. My savior reputation was getting around. I put on my imaginary cape and went outside to save the day.

The dog had no tag. I had never seen it before. How would I ever find its owner? How long had it gone without food and water? I was overcome with worry and concern for the poor dog. I switched into rescue mode.

I grabbed a leash and took the lost dog around to our back yard. I cordoned off our four dogs despite their protests. I got bedding and supplies. I enlisted my daughters to put their best art skills to work. We made lots of flyers and posters.

FOUND FEMALE GERMAN SHEPHERD

We diligently drove all around town, plastering up the dogs picture.

A couple of days later, we received a call. It was the dogs owner! The dogs name was Lilly. The owner sounded so frantic, so worried. He said he had just moved to a new neighborhood, and Lilly had wandered out the front door. He had only looked away for a minute, and he couldnt understand how she could have disappeared so quickly.

He had just bathed her, so her collar with her identification had been removed. He had been looking for her non-stop, without sleep, ever since. Needless to say, he was ecstatic we had found Lilly. He was overflowing with gratitude.

He said he was ready to get in his car and come get her. Where do you live? he asked.

We live on Oak Street! I said, eager to hear how far the dog had traveled.

The voice on the other end hesitated a beat. Oak Street? he echoed.

Why, yes! Where do you live? I asked enthusiastically.

Oak Street, he said, flatly. Im your new neighbor. I live right next door

MUST. SAVE. DOG.

Julie Theel

Rosy and the Wildebeest

Give toys that are powered by their imagination, not by batteries.

~H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

I caught up to the family of three as I speed-walked around the campground in Summerdale, Alabama. Frank and Georgia were chatting while their chocolate Lab tugged on the leash, hoping the slowpokes would speed up a bit.

Being a sucker for dogs, I slowed, smiled, and said, Hi. I joined in the conversation after Frank introduced his wife and himself.

Beautiful dog, I said as I bent down to pet her.

Rosy is such a clever girl, Frank said proudly. She was trained by the monks of the New Skete Monasteries. You dont have to ask her to do anything, he said as he tossed his hat like a Frisbee onto the grass beside the walking path. Now where did I leave my hat? he asked, looking around while Rosys head bobbed from side to side. It took her seconds to spot the baseball cap. She hopped to it, swooped in, grabbed it by the brim, and delivered it to Frank. With her tail wagging, she was obviously pleased with herself.

Thank you, Rosy, he said with a flare and settled the cap back on his head.

From that moment on, I never passed her without giving her a pat, a scratch on the muzzle, and a mini-massage my reason for being a favorite of most dogs.