Frisky

Frisky


Canine
English Springer Spaniel
Liver and white
Born sometime in 2002

Frisky, a misnomer, if ever there was one. I guess as a puppy he may have filled the bill, but no longer.

Frisky came to us as a foster care dog. He was approximately three years old when he joined our family November 12, 2005. His human papa had been hospitalized for several months. He had a double lung transplant. The transplant went well and was successful..

When I first heard that Frisky was in a veterinarian kennel and had been for a couple of months, I called his human mama. She had moved temporarily to an apartment to be near her husband some two hundred plus miles away from home. Practically speaking, she could not take care of the dog. In addition to the time she spent with her husband, the apartment complex did not allow pets. A neighbor took care of him for a month or so. Then the neighbor decided that she could no longer take care of him. Enter the vet’s kennel. The staff loved him, was very good to him and gave him excellent care, but it was not the best place for him to live. I was still up-north working our summer schedule for kettle korn, but told Frisky’s mom that I would be happy to bring him to my home when I returned to Florida. Mom was pleased.

Lynne and her daughter took Frisky out of his kennel home for a few days, until I could get to them. Both his human mama and papa were happy that we would have room to roam. We live about thirty miles from the hospital. Frisky’s folks were able to come out one day to visit.

Molly was still with us. So, Frisky became number two dog. Molly got the front bed in the van; Frisky the floor of the van. Molly was his big sister. She taught him how to behave at kettle korn events. She always slept under a table; he quickly learned to so do as well. After we lost Molly the following spring, Frisky became number one dog and got the bed in the front of the van. (The van has bucket seats and Steve built up a place where the dog’s bed could go. The dog can sleep or sit up and watch the scenery as it wishes…Molly oft sat up; Frisky generally sleeps.)

Frisky’s papa got a viral infection which attacked all his organs including his wonderful new lungs and passed in December 2005. Frisky’s mom felt he would be better with us. So, he went from foster care to being adopted. He reminds so much of his first human papa—his eyes, his expressions and his cute little wiggly jowls . They say pets look like their owners (or maybe owners look like their pets). ‘Tis true!

Frisky does not like being alone; he follows us around like…what’s the expression…oh, yeah…a dog. If we are outdoors, that’s where he wants to be; if we go indoors, he cries at the window to join us. He sleeps at our feet when the TV is on and follows Steve to the bedroom about an hour after Steve retires. I go to bed much later than my boys, but usually let him out just before I retire. More likely than not, I find him on the floor next to Steve’s side of the bed or under the bed.

When we go out to do an event, he is a crazy boy. While we are putting up the tent, he is constantly in the way. But as soon as everything is set up, he stays under one of the tables. Sometimes he rests in the back of the tent; but more often than not, he sleeps under the table in the front. He is soooooooo quiet that people do not often see him. He loves attention, but sometimes too many people or too much noise scares him.

Another fear he has is water—ocean, lake. I have tried to tell him that he is a spaniel; by nature, he should like water. But, no way! We have taken him to a doggie park that has a doggie beach. Try to coax him in! Ha Ha! He plants himself like a stubborn donkey. No pulling, pushing or carrying is gonna get that dude in that water. No way, Jose!

One of the funniest things about him is that he snores…LOUDLY. When he first came to us, I blamed Steve for the noise. It only took a couple of days to realize that it was not Steve at all, but this new critter in the house. He has a snorky sound (sometimes we call him Snork), a set of snorts and wheezes…actually a whole orchestra of sounds and melodies.

Like Betsy, we think he also wears a watch. His is probably a Goofy or Pluto or some other dog hero. Are there Lassie or Rin Tin Tin watches? Shortly after Betsy comes out of her room (see March 31 post), he starts barking. If ignored, he grabs his bowl and flings it until someone gets the hint and puts his grub into it.

He gets along well with the cats. He wants to play, but they apparently do not understand the doggie rules of the game—only the cat rules. So, the games do not always go well. The felines do, however, tolerate him and sometimes even rub against him. But, they are cats after all, and must maintain their aloofness.