Caleb Lived!

Caleb, as we called him,  was a 3 month old yellow lab we rescued from the pound.  He was an unbelievable find.  Who would get rid of a 3 month old yellow lab?  The answer would come to us shortly.  He grew quickly.  This was to be expected.  He chewed shoes, boxes, toys, the regular gammit of chew toys for a lab, but then he ate the carpet.  I cried.  It was fairly new, and  I didn't have the money to replace it. So, we no longer had matching carpet throughout the house.  He my son's coat.  He started to spend more and more time outside.  It was the only way I knew that I could keep him and my sanity. 

Finally, I had had it!  He destroyed trees, hoses, but the end came when he ate my newly installed sprinkler system metal heads and all.  The children cried, and I cried.  I put an ad in the local paper.  I had people lined up to take him, but I explained his naughty habit of chewing up everything including the sprinkler heads.  Nobody cared.  They all wanted the dog.  Two people offered me money, but I choose our family vet. 

He said, "I'm dog poor, but I love'll him and  care for him." 

So the vet won.  He had a large acreage, and I reasoned that he also had the wherewithal to care for Caleb.  I brought Caleb with tears to vet. I knew Caleb would be better off, and I knew I'd be better off, as well. 
The vet couldn't wait to get in one last dig, "There is no such thing as a bad dog, only bad owners." 

I took the insult with grace.  I knew either I would be vindicated, or I was a bad dog owner.  Either way, Caleb would be well cared for and loved. 

After two weeks, I had a new dog, and went to the vet.  I,of course, asked about Caleb.

The vet rubbed it in, "He's wonderful.  My kids and grandkids just love him.  He dotes on the youngest 15 month old. We couldn't be happier."

  So we left with our new "normal" dog.  We returned again to visit the vet, and we asked again. 

This time he said, sadly, "We had to banish him to the back yard.  I didn't mind a shoe or two but he ate through my son's bedspread and then ate the mattress."

Now, I was vindicated but sad for Caleb.  Then, about six months later, we visited the vet again.  I almost didn't want to ask, but this time he volunteered the information.

"He ate the back yard.  I mean everything.  Trees, gardens, hoses, so we fenced him into a small area surrounding our lake.  One day, he continued, a duck flew in to the fenced area and never left Caleb's side.  They swam together, ate together, and slept together."

I was amused, but didn't chance to ask of Caleb again.  About nine years later, I did ask.  Caleb had finally settled down, his duck flew away, and Caleb returned to his owner's house.  He had given up chewing, but the vet said he had become obese. 

"I put him on a special diet.  I'll tell you if you came to me with a dog that fat, I'd scream and yell at you.  But I know I've  done everything to help that dang dog.  He'll die early, but we'll love him everyday until that moment comes."

I never heard if and when Caleb died; it was enough for me to know Caleb lived.