When I tell you we get all kinds here at the Ranch, let me introduce you to Scarlett.
Scarlett arrived with some serious challenges. She was missing her lower jaw and had a Level 5 heart murmur. Her previous family worried her medical needs would simply be too much to handle. Did any of that slow Scarlett down? Not for one second. The moment she arrived, Scarlett decided she needed to determine which bed in the Ranch belonged to her. She began conducting a thorough inspection of every available sleeping arrangement, including blind Bessie’s bed. Well, Scarlett launched herself onto Bessie’s bed so fast that poor Bessie nearly jumped out of her fur. The two had a brief discussion, and Scarlett eventually decided to continue her investigation elsewhere.
Next came Pita’s food bowl. Now, Pita is a little on the chunky side, but Scarlett insists she wasn’t stealing food. According to Scarlett, she was merely performing an act of kindness in helping Pita start a diet and performing a “quality-control inspection.” None of us bought those explanations. But the real excitement came when Scarlett discovered the backyard. Off she went, racing around at top speed, performing what humans call “zoomies.” In the middle of one particularly impressive lap, she spotted the chickens. What happened next can best be described as organized chaos. There were clucking, squawking, feathers flying, dogs barking, and chickens running in every direction. Mom came outside in a hurry, and Scarlett’s grand adventure ended with a very large timeout.
Scarlette’s first adventure with the chickens taught her something that none of us realized at the time. While she was making new feathered friends, she discovered that the chickens received something she considered a great treasure—bread scraps. Every day Mom brings home leftover bread scraps for the chickens. After her first visit to the coop, Scarlette apparently decided those scraps rightfully belonged to her. What none of us knew was that she had begun making regular visits to the coop, sneaking a few pieces whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Then one day, temptation got better of her. Instead of grabbing a quick snack and leaving, Scarlette decided to stay for a full-course meal. Last week Scarlette disappeared. Everyone searched for her. They looked around the Ranch, behind buildings, through the yards, and even up and down the road, fearing she had wandered off. After searching everywhere else, someone finally checked the chicken coop. And there was Scarlette.
Her fur blended so perfectly with the Rhode Island Red hens that she was nearly invisible. Surrounded by chickens and happily munching away on their bread scraps, she seemed quite pleased with herself—and not the least bit interested in being rescued. Of course, I could fill this entire journal with Scarlett stories, but then there wouldn’t be room to tell you about all the other wonderful residents who call Little Dog Ranch home. And trust me, every one of them has a tale worth telling.
Before I sign off, there’s one thing I want to say. The stories you’ve read here are really your stories too. They only happen because friends like you have helped Mom keep Little Dog Ranch going all these years. Every warm bed, every full food bowl, every medicine bottle, every second chance and every happy tail wag is possible because you cared enough to help. On behalf of Scarlett, Bessie, Pita, the chickens, and all the rest of us, thank you.
See you next issue.
Doodles
Founder, Resident Emeritus, Editor-in-Chief
Little Dog Ranch
