Lucy's Story - puppy farm mum

My Little Dog

All my life I have lived with dogs. Always two dogs. Always a boy and a girl and they were always called Mag and Mog. When Mog IV run under a car my parents came back with Tiger. We didn’t realize he was a puppy farm stud poodle. He was just offered free in the paper and we were happy to have him. He was a beautiful delicate little black poodle with amazingly silky hair. He also had been so neglected that one of his teeth was poking through the top of his mouth. He had to have most of his teeth extracted, but he always gave a bone a good try.

Tiger was also pretty deaf and blind. They said he was ten… but we had our suspicions.

He would stand right between the kitchen and the living room so he knew who was coming and going. He didn’t understand pats. If you tried to pat him his head would hit the floor. As I went past I’d always pounce on him, put my hand under his chin, gently pull his head up and give him a pat. He got used to this eventually. He also adored my mother and was always to be found under her desk.

Tiger went suddenly and along with my beloved Mag III was buried under the Mango tree.

Then we inherited Monty. A fat grey dirigible shaped poof poodle that looks like he has been dipped in bleach up to the armpits. Monty is also fourth hand and still suffers recurring trauma for being called Gizmo by one of his earlier owners (although it is appropriate considering her really does look like a Gremlin).

But we had no girl.

My good doggie friend went searching and found an Australian NSW based organization called Doggie Rescue run by a lady called Monica. I don’t think Monica would mind me mentioning her – Doggie Rescue is a silly name, but a great organization all staffed by volunteers from the people who look after the dogs to the ladies who knit the dogs’ jumpers.

I went searching through their database until I saw something that looked like Cousin It off The Adams Family. That’s it I said: It may be ugly, but it’s the right size, it doesn’t moult and it’s a girl.

The family wasn’t convinced, but I won everyone over by strategically leaving pictures of the gerk brown dog along with her history around the house.

Lucy had probably never had a name. She was a puppy farm mom used to make Shitzu/Maltese crosses. She had many puppies. When her usefulness expired she was thrown out and left to die.

When she was found her she weighed 4 kilograms (she now weighs ten – although she should weigh nine… what can I say - ham). Her thyroid was stuffed and her big googly eyes had been infected and never treated. Did I mention Lucy is a Shitzu with big googly Marty Fieldman eyes? She didn’t know what grass was and her legs were in a sorry state. Shitzus can jump. Lucy can sort of bounce if you waggle enough ham in front of her.

Doggie Rescue didn’t quite believe me when I emailed them and asked if I could have her.

She’s blind and deaf, they said. She needs drops in her eye twice a day. So what, I replied. I think they were a bit suspicious, like we wanted to eat her or something. They had also never done an interstate adoption before (I live in a different state). After lots of pestering by me and assuring she would not fall in the swimming pool, a friend of Doggie Rescue called was sent up to check out our house and check out us and our dog eating ways.

We must have passed because Lucy, the first interstate Doggie Rescue Dog arrived. They do it regularly now, but back then it was a first.

Lucy came in a crate. She looked as awful as she had in her photo. As we were getting her out of her crate in the airport there was a call from Monica.

“Do they like her?” she asked.

Of course we did. Even though we had never seen a Shitzu before we loved her the minute we saw her: her googly eyes, her undershot jaw, and her stubby legs that would leave her splayed on the tiles.

She came with a toy Daschund, two blankets, her medicine, a pink jumper and her bumble bee jumper. We got her home and I followed Lucy as she methodically checked out her new home and the swimming pool.

I have never seen a dog as angry as Lucy after I pulled her out. What the hell was that she barked? I had assured Monica that Lucy wouldn’t fall in, but after having lived through many litters of puppies and ‘swimming pool day’ I had my suspicions she would have to live through swimming pool day.

Swimming pool day is the day you let the puppies out of their puppy home and they all walk straight into the swimming pool. Watching six little poodles fall into the pool one after the other is hilarious: Do do do, plop. Do do do, plop, Do do do, plop. You fish them out, dry them off and oddly enough they never do it again.

And of course the first thing Lucy did was fall in.

Somehow over time Lucy stopped being gerk brown and became golden brown.

Shitzus were revered in China. They wouldn’t let their little sacred dogs be taken away until some sneaky British guy kidnapped a pair of them and they became a commodity.

Shitzus are temple dogs, which mean they always sleep/guard any thoroughfare they can find and you always trip over them. I presume this was handy in ancient China, but really annoying when you want to go to the loo in the middle of the night.

Shitzus were attended to by Eunuchs. Lucy has two Eunuchs and Person Number One. Person Number One must be accounted for at all times or if she goes out, waited for and severely berated when she gets back. Eunuch One and Two are also important as they bring food, walks and tasty treats during eyeballing time (as we call it). Monty must be put up with dignity and grace.

Lucy snores like a low loader; she’s a pest; she gets very smelly because she digs up old bones from the garden, but she is loved as every other little dog is loved - unconditionally.

One day, I know, she too will be underneath the mango tree. But until that day... she is a gift we all treasure.