Olly Dog

Olly is our newest family member.  He arrived in May by some funky mix of good-intent and good-luck.  My muse-worthy neighbor is currently in the market for a dog.  Not just any dog: the soul mate kind of dog.  The kind of dog you fall for when you first lay eyes on it.  The kind of dog who looks you in the eye when you talk to it and who clearly understands.  The kind of dog you learn to love a little more each day.  No short order.  Now I have sort of earned a dog-lady reputation in the neighborhood.  I am the person you call at night when your puppy has hurt himself humping a stuffed animal.  I am that kind of neighbor.  I also have connections.  I know people...the kind of people who can do a favor for you if the favor you need is to find a rescue animal to adopt.

I had put out the word that I was looking for a young yellow lab for my neighbor and within a couple of weeks I got an interesting call.  A friend had a dog available.  He was not a yellow lab, but he was well trained.  He was actually a Goldendoodle and was trained for service work but he failed his final.  Isn't that so sweet and pathetic?  Duffy, as he was known back then, had run around during the test and left the space he was supposed to stay in.  You can't have a service dog that wanders off, so he flunked out of the program.  Isn't that kind of tragically endearing?  This friend was going to foster him as they worked to "re-career" the boy.  My neighbor, who I adore, spends a lot of time at their vacation property and the fact that he likes to run off automatically crossed him off the list.  But I went to meet the dog anyway.  

He is an unusual Goldendoodle.  He is a red head!  And SO extraordinarily handsome.  He jumped up on the fence and smiled at me.  His long tongue hung out the side of his mouth.  He looked like he should be wearing a pair of Plus Four golf knickers with suspenders and a Tam O'Shanter.  He came home that day.

We named him Olly and the children (ok, the mama too) are fond of singing, "Olly, Olly, Olly get your adverbs here."  [Yes, we know it is Lolly on Schoolhouse Rock.  We change song lyrics all the time.  Sometimes intentionally.]  And Olly may not have had the right stuff for service work, but he is a prince by our standards.  The boy can pick up dirty laundry and put it in the hamper.  He will hand you back anything you drop (TV remote) or throw (TV remote).  He actually puts them in your hand!  Isn't that fantastic?  And aside from the drinking problem (he sticks his whole muzzle in the water dish) and the stuffed animal habit (we are trying to get him in rehab for that one but he is still in such denial that it is a problem) he has been a perfect fit. 

He loves Tanner and Geneva devotedly.  They, in turn, treat him like a little brother.  The girls share their toys but never their treats.  When they all line up at the water dish Tanner goes first and Olly and Geneva jocky for last.  Neither one of them has the least bit of Alpha in them.  

My darling neighbor, who I now feel a bit sorry for, missed out on a great dog.  But at least she can visit him any time she would like.  And some day soon, when she does find the right dog for her, there will be one more fantastic dog in the cul-du-sac-pack.