THE LITTLE DOG I DIDN’T WANT
I will never forget the day Fredrick
became a part of my life.
When dogs come in to the unit. Everyone gets excited. The dogs bring the atmosphere and mood up in the pod. People love seeing these dogs. Most of the time they are more excited than we are.
It was the summer of 2013 in June. I was playing cards in the dayroom. I heard my name. It was being called from accross the dayroom. An excited voice was saying,
“Jesse! The Sgt. has you dog in her office. Go get your dog man.”
My ears perk up from what was just said. I stand up from the table that I am playing cards at. I look towards the big sliding mechanical door that leads to the rotunda of our unit. My heart skips a beat from surprise and excitement. Is this true?
I start toward the door wondering what kinda dog it will be? Shaggy, short haired, over weight or fit? Is it going to be energetic, or shy and scared? Will it be a Lab or a German Shepard? Maybe a Golden Retriever or a Boxer?
As I make my way around the corner to the Sgt office, I glance in her window with excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. I’m getting a doggy!!
Just to get stopped dead in my tracks. As I see the dog. I turn around and walk right back in the dayroom to the card table and continue to finish my hand at cards.
They asked me what’s going on? Where’s your dog? I tell them, “someone is playing a joke on me. That wassnt my dog. She knows I hate small dogs. Everyone knows that.” They all laugh and we start to play cards again.
Then I heard her voice in the distance. “Bailey! Bailey! Come get your dog!”
I go over to her. Walk right up to the Sgt. I’m not happy at all. I tell her that “I don’t want that dog. Give it to someone else. I know someone will be glad to have him.” I am kinda making a scene in front of the whole unit. So she ussher’s me out toward her office with the dog in tow.
She continues to assure me that I do want it. But I get more agitated and frustrated about the situation.
As we make it into the rotunda between A pod and B pod. I say “You know I don’t like small dogs. If I can drop kick it like a football, its too small. I don’t want that little thing. I will quit the dog program right now If you give that dog”
That really didn’t sit well with her and a huge scowl washed across her face.
She kept her composure and started to tell me about the dog and his story.
Fuming, I just stand there and listen.
This is a Pure Breed Toy Poodle. He is about 12 lbs, and 6 years old. He is from a puppy mill raid a month ago. There were over 50 dogs at this mill.
He has never been out of a 2’x4′ crate except to have breed. He has probably
never been outside on grass or around any other dogs. Most likely has not even been treated very good. Look at him Jesse!
He had very poor health and just had most of his teeth pulled for being rotten. This little guy has had it hard. When he was rescued he was one big mat of fur and smelled really bad. He was shaved but still could use another bath.
His job was just to breed. He was the puppy mill stud. His daughter is down in the other unit. She was the next dog he was lined up to breed with. We were told he doesent like other dogs, except his daughter.
I start to calm down and she says, “Jesse, please take this dog. He needs you. I know you have the love in you that this dog needs. Give it a chance.”
I’m starting to calm down a little now. I just stand there, silent, and listen to her.
“I know you like bigger dogs. But I need you to help him. Help him learn that life is good and not just a dingy crate he used to live in. I know you don’t really want to quit. So just take him, see how you feel in a few hours and then come talk to me.”
I sigh and take the leash from her in defeat. Thinking, she might be right. Maybe I shouldn’t be like that. These dogs come here because they need us in some way.
As I walk back into the day room with this little, white, dirty, ugly, tiny little poodle I really didn’t want, people stop what their doing and start laughing and cracking jokes at me. Man I knew this would happen.
Its really hard to look tough in prison with a tiny little dog and a dinky little blue leash.
Now I am being asked what his name is. I didn’t have an answer for them. Come to think about, I was never told what it was.
My mind started racing for a name. Quick what should I tell them. I was looking for a name that was quirky, rich sounding, stuck-up, snobby, stupid and oddball name for a dog. Then the name hit me, “its Fredrick.”
I went strait up stairs to my cell with Fredrick to show him his new home.
A few hours passed and we had to lock down for the night. I never made it back to see her! Oh crap!
I run down to the officer station with Frederick in tow. When I asked to talk to the Sgt. I was told she already left. Figures, now I am stuck with the ugly little dog.
Little did I realize was this ugly little poodle I didn’t want and felt like drop kicking like a football was going to find a place in my heart forever.
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