Hurricane Allie and Hurricane Katrina; or How We Came to be the Human Companions of The Black Dog

I have come to realize that the smallest member of our family - aka "The Pack" - really rules the roost. We'd like to think that the Significant Other ("S.O.") and I are in charge here but the facts belie this. Sure, we provide a home, food, beds, rides wherever and whenever they are needed. We shell out money to whomever needs it for things that the littlest one thinks we have to have on hand. We make sure the house is always at the appropriate temperature no matter what time of year. We watch things on tv that won't be too disturbing and put on music that is soothing and hopefully, will induce some sleep. We try to keep things on a schedule and make the household routine as predictable as possible. No, this isn't for a child but for our two dogs.

The Black Dog came into our lives a few months after The White Dog aka Genie the Wonderdog left us to go play Chase in Heaven. The Brown Dog didn't understand this and was grief stricken at the loss of his playmate. He dropped ten pounds in thirty days. (I sure could use that diet.) We started to look for another dog; visited various rescues and shelters where The Brown Dog immediately rejected all potential fur-blings. I searched the Internet and kept coming back to the same dog over and over. I wanted another lab mix which she was. I wanted a black one because of the amount of black clothes I have; leftovers from my L.A. days. And she was smiling in the adoption picture. That sealed the deal for me but I needed the S.O. to agree and The Brown One's stamp of approval. Well obviously she passed the S.O.'s requirements and The Brown Dog's sniff test, so to speak. The cats didn't get a vote but The Black Dog set about to win them over and did. So here she is.

We know everything that has happened to her since July 11th, 2007 but only bits and pieces of her life prior. Going backwards from that date we know that we were matched with her at the University of Utah where she was in a testing program for human painkillers. They identified her as potentially a great companion and trained her with the help of Intermountain Therapy Dogs. (The joke is that she has been to rehab and when she is whiny - she's got the Jones.) The U got her from a shelter in September of the prior year where she was considered to be unadoptable and had languished for a few months. Prior to that she was adopted out to a ranch and kept escaping during storms. And the rancher who didn't claim her at the shelter? He/she got her from Best Friends where The Black Dog racked up frequent flyer miles coming into Utah from Houston, Texas in October of 2005. So our sweet Allie is a Hurricane Katrina Rescue as she came here from a shelter that was holding a number of rescued dogs from Louisiana.

What we also know is that The Black Dog shakes unbelievably and digs whenever she hears sirens or wind or a combination of the two. We know that thunder makes her dig dig dig and she is inconsolable during heavy rainstorms. We also know that she knew her way around a house the minute we brought her home. She immediately settled in the kitchen in front of the stove. (Some days it seems like she has never left that spot.) She knew to go to the backdoor when she wants out and she definitely knew all about dogbeds. She has had a litter of pups and she loves children. Our vet told us she had reconstructive surgery on one of her rear legs and that she'll always have a little limp. He also told us she was a purebred English Lab to the best of his knowledge. My brother, the hunter, saw that she points and does other things important to hunters. The Black Dog adores The Brown Dog, loves body hugs and is an early riser. If we were to write a bio about her on an Internet Dating Site she'd be married by now, she is that lovable. (Despite what the S.O. says.)

With all of this The Black Dog has us fulfilling her every need at all hours of the day. As I finish writing this she is laying on my legs, on the couch watching Marley and Me with the S.O. We, oops he, turns the volume down during the loudest barking scenes otherwise she gets too wound up and barks at The Brown Dog. She wakes us up at 5:30 am on the dot for fear she'll die from hunger while we sleep. She sniffs the grocery bags when I come home, looking hopefully for new bones and peanut butter. And she starts the Happy Hour Dance at 5 pm on the dot because obviously Happy Hour is when dogs get fed so they don't starve overnight. The S.O. seems to think Happy Hour is a whole other event that takes place after work on Fridays, sometimes at The Jeremy Club.

We searched the various Katrina websites for her original human companions as did the shelter in Houston, Best Friends and the U. We just couldn't imagine separating this gorgeous girl from her first family. Every year around the anniversary of the Hurricane I take a little time to think about those people and pray for them. I hope they are well and thriving like this beautiful girl who has been such a blessing to us.