First we have “Elwood” … did you know his name is Old English meaning “from the old forest”? And just what, per chance, did I happen to find on the front page of Thursday’s local paper? That would be a big “Elvis Poopsley,” thank you very much!!
Elvis was the first stray ever surrendered to our organization (most of our dogs are OTIs, i.e., owner turn-in). Found by two ladies in metro Denver, he had been wandering a Capitol Hill neighborhood for weeks. Concerned about him freezing in the approaching winter weather, they bundled him up and brought him to Loveland. Fairly new to rescue, I wasn’t quite prepared for what greeted me. He looked like he’d been on the streets for some time as he was matted to the skin so badly it was impeding his ability to walk. The mats on top of his paws alone were at least an inch thick. Because of the smell emanating from him, I was concerned he might have open wounds somewhere. Of course, this was late Saturday afternoon and an opening with a “real” groomer wasn’t to be found anywhere … poor Elvis was stuck with me.
Not willing to make him wait another day in that condition, I started cutting the mats off him with a small pair of scissors. Four hours later and some nicks because the skin was so tightly adhered to the mat, we had a buck nekkid dog. A nice dog who didn’t once try to bite or nip at me despite having plenty of opportunity to do so. His color pattern was a bit of a surprise … he arrived charcoal gray and emerged a brindle after his grooming! One of the local radio stations was doing a tribute to “The King” that day and Elvis Poopsley just kinda fit, so Elvis it was.
Several weeks later, Elvis was adopted by an older couple in Loveland, Willa and Vic. During the homecheck, I met their daughter and her Tzu, Pootie Bear. We’ve keep in contact over the years, usually by Christmas card. Vic passed away some time ago; Willa had a stroke a couple years back and Elvis is credited with her good recovery — she simply had to be there for him. Elvis is around 12-years old now and fighting off immune mediated hemolytic anemia. But, he still gets out and enjoys his walks. Here’s to the old dogs … and the people who love them …