A Dog Named George

He never wanted to have another dog. After Muffett died and Muffett II was stolen he said enough was enough. But than George wondered into their world. He just showed up in their backyard one day and never left.

George was a mutt. Even the vet was not sure what breeds had contributed to his creation. What little hair he had was short, stiff and brown. He was not a large dog, he weighed about 25 pounds soaking wet. He would have never won a beauty contest or best of show but he was a warm and loving friend.

He wanted to send George away but the children would not have it and their mother agreed. So George became part of the family. No one ever saw him pet the dog, or call the dog, or even acknowledge the dog's existence. However, he never chased George away.

The two youngest children were especially close to George. They wrestled with him, chased him and he always slept at the end of one of their beds. It was as if he felt on obligation to protect them from things that go bump in the night.

As the children grew older George would follow them everywhere. It was as if he sensed that someday the children would leave and he did not want to miss out on a single moment.

One night the children went jogging and George followed. They had an argument, as kids often do, so they were running on opposite sides of the street. George was not one to take sides so he was running back and forth between the kids when a car hit him.

They brought him to the vet and he said there was little hope. He told the family that putting George to sleep might be the best choice. The children would have none of that and their mother agreed. So finally, against his better judgment he told the vet to save him. Several operations later George was allowed to come home.

For the first month George hardly ate or moved about the house. The children tried everything but George seemed to have lost the will to live.

He never really asked about George and seemed to be indifferent to his condition. However, one night he returned late from work and he thought he was the only one awake. Quietly, he opened a doggy bag and removed a large piece of prime rib. He methodically sliced the meat into small dog-sized pieces. He got down on the floor and began to hand feed the meat to George one bite at a time.

Following, that evening George began to improve. Before long he was out and about catching up on the latest happenings in the neighborhood. He was never as spry as is younger self but he still lived life to the fullest.

I never mentioned to my step dad that I had seen him feeding George. What I had witnessed though changed our relationship in a subtle way. I had always thought of my step dad as being cold and distant, someone without emotions. But after that night I realized that he had a warm and loving heart, he just was not comfortable enough to share that heart with the rest of the world.