Monday, January 3, 2011

Wally, he started out not being my dog...but I fell in love with him the first time I saw him.  I met him back in October, when I would walk by the house on my corner and I'd pet him or give him doggy treats.  His owner put the house up for rent and I thought for sure he'd be gone with the move...but then I saw that he was left out, day and night.  When the rains came, we thought for sure he'd be put inside, but in the pouring rain on a cold night, we saw him rolled up into a little ball underneath a table. His food bowl was filled with water, and his dry dog food was puffy and floating in the overflowing bowl.  For months now, I'd noticed how the yard was not kept, feces everywhere and his only entertainment was a torn up yellow pages.  He had a dog house, but wasn't using thought (since I couldn't get in the yard to find out for myself) was that since it was covered with a tarp, a leak happened and it was possibly flooded. 

No one was ever home, and the curtains were always drawn. I never saw anyone out in the yard cleaning up after him.  I never saw anyone walking him or out there keeping him company or playing.  California was seeing some of the worst rain storms and no one cared if this little dog was left out??  Less than a month ago I found a neighborhood dog that had been neglected and let out of it's yard over and over again... he got hit by a car and I found him and had to watch him die.  I wasn't about to stand by and let this little guy die too.  I took him home, wrote the lady a note telling her I had him and to give me a call she got home.  I never heard from her, and the note I put in a ziplock bag and taped with packaging tape on her back door was gone so I knew she got it. 

The next day, I walked by there and saw her Dad working in the yard.  He had just rid himself of the doghouse because he thought the pound took Wally.  I reluctantly gave him back, especially after seeing the house totally and completely vacant, but he promised me he'd take Wally to his daughter or put him inside.  The next morning, Wally busted out of the yard through a broken slat in the fence and was on his way toward a busy street.  I whistled and called to him, and he came running to me...laying on his back at my feet.  I brought him home and didn't make the effort to give him back.  I gave him back twice....once because I thought someone still lived there and again on an empty promise.  Never again...he's here to stay.


  1. Thanks Shelley! First comments, yay!!

  2. You go woman. I love this story, and I love you for doing this Esther. Already you've got some great shots of (may I be formal) Walter, here.
    You really are the LA Angel.