But...we said we weren't getting another one!

DISCLAIMER:  All pics are obviously from later in the story.

Last Thursday while Neta and I were out at the farm a lumber truck pulled up to the house.  I walked over to inquire about the delivery and as I was talking to the guy, I looked up and a dog stepped out from the house and onto the front porch.  I turned to the guy and said, "Huh...a dog just walked out of my house."  The guy looked up and chuckled and I expected him to say that it was his and had been riding along, but that was not the case.

Moments before the horror of visiting the vet.  She looks healthy...from a distance.

I called the dog over and it immediately pulled its ears back, hunkered down in a submissive walk and came over to me wagging its tail.  It was a very sweet, but extremely mangy, under-nourished and slightly weak, English Setter.  I walked over to tell Neta as the dog headed back into the house. Neta and I followed her back to the master bedroom closet and she was laying down, all curled up.  Neta kept the dog company while I went to grab my phone to look up the number of Animal Control.  I was hoping we could get the dog to the shelter for some medical treatment as it was very mangy and possibly eaten up with fleas.  It turned out it was after 5pm and Animal Control was closed.

The fleas have had a feast!

Neta went up to Terrell's house and got some food, in this case a packet of tuna and a can of beanie-weenies (don't judge his pantry).  We fed her some tuna which she lapped up quickly.  After about 10 mins the dog had perked up and was bounding all over the place.  We distracted her so we could close the house up and not let her back in.  We didn't want her taking up residence, or messing in the house, especially considering we'd just fed her and didn't know how she'd react to new food in her system.  We set up a spot in the barn for the night and hoped she would be there the next morning.  We wanted to help, but didn't want to visit any ailments on Sammie at home.

Who couldn't love that face?

We stopped by Terrell's on the way out and she followed us up there.  She ran around his house and seemed like she'd hang around there for the night, especially knowing that someone was home, so we left her there.  Terrell says it's not uncommon for people down here to steal a hunting dog (you can tell she's been hunted by her movements and body language) and hunt it for a year or two and then turn it loose so they don't have to care for it.

The next morning, Friday, I went over to the farm and sure enough, she was laying on Terrell's carport.  I called Animal Control and they said they didn't know if they could get to her that day.  I asked if I could bring her in and they said they'd check to see if they had room and call me back.

A couple of hours later the man from Animal Control called back and said he'd gone over there and picked her up and brought her to the shelter.  He said that we should give it a few days for them to process her and they are closed on weekends.

Skin and bones.  Poor thing!  She weighed in at 35 pounds.  She also thinks she's a lap dog.

Despite saying that we would never get another dog, I could tell that Neta wanted her, and deep down, seeing how sweet and gentle she was, and reminding me of the two English Setters that my parents had, I secretly wanted to adopt her too.  We were keeping our fingers crossed that we would be able to adopt her once she was processed through the system and given the proper medical treatments.

We began coming up with names.  That pretty much sealed the deal.

On Monday at noon I called to check on her and was informed that since she was suffering from mange so badly, along with other ailments, it was their policy to euthanize her.  I asked if anything could be done to save her and they told me to call the head of Animal Control.  I did and left a message  In the meantime I called the Humane Society since their website said they worked with the county shelter to save animals from being euthanized.  They told me that they didn't have the best relationship with the shelter and couldn't just pick and choose animals to save, but if we said we would adopt her outright the shelter may just hand her over to us.  We drove to the shelter.

She was either in my lap or Neta's lap the whole vet visit.

The people there were really nice and said that along as we agreed to give her veterinary care, they would turn her over to us on Wednesday.  We made an appointment with the vet for Wednesday after so she could get a check up, see what kind of treatment she needs and hopefully nurse her back to full health.  It's a roll of the dice, but she's certainly a sweet dog and deserves a good home.

Today, Neta and I went to the shelter to pick her up.  They considered it a rescue and did not charge us the usual fees as they provided no services other than food, water and shelter.  We loaded her into the car.  WHOA!!!  She smelled bad!  That doggy smell...times 100!  But she was so gentle and sweet.  She laid right down in the back on the blankets we had for her, and we took her to the vet.

Someone needs a hug.

She endured the horrible abuse of the vet, namely a blood draw, a couple of needles and taking a fecal sample.  The vet determined that she did not have mange, just a bad reaction to all of the flea bites. She's an English Setter.  She's only 35 pounds has mild hookworm, mild cataracts and judging by the extreme wear on her teeth, she's between 8 to 12 years old.  She won't be on a cotton candy diet, but she's not going to leave much of a mark if she bites you.  Imagine a grandpa...at 90 years old...from England.

After all of that awfulness, we got her home where she and Sammie had a meet and greet in a shady part of the yard.  They seemed to at least tolerate each other, though neither seemed interested in being friend or foe, more like ambivalence.  We brought her inside to just the kitchen area where we gave her water.  She lapped the bowl dry and also quickly devoured the food we gave her.  Then the worst betrayal of all...A BATH!!!

I feel safe now.

Having very little fur was a good thing for us.  We wet, washed, rinsed, repeated and dried her off in just a few minutes, they finally let her loose into the rest of the house.  The carpeted and furniture filled part.  She made a beeline for the sofa, jumped up and made herself at home.  Sammie gave us a look like, "Really?  She's here 15 minutes.  I'm with you for years and I'm not allowed to do that!"  She was gently removed, though she has made the same attempt at least another dozen times.

She and Sammie are still figuring each other out.  Sammie is ready for a friend.  She...not so much.  She "seems" to be housebroken, already going to the door to signal a couple of times  She certainly smells much better since her bath, though until her skin clears up more, she'll still be a little doggy smelling.  Otherwise, she seems very calm, despite the vet visit, bath and complete change of scenery and life.

Post-bath and finally FREE!!!

Finally, for those interested in knowing her name.  Neta wanted to name her Lucky.  I was thinking of something more fun and whimsical that had a southern ring to it.  So her name will be...

"Lucky Lulu Belle"

And now you know "The Story of Lucky Lulu Belle".