Three years ago I moved back from Jupiter, Florida. A year prior to that I came to the Cape for a visit and met Luther. We have only been separated once, for 6 months, as he waited patiently for me to finish out the winter season in Florida and move home. Once back, Luther and I moved into his sister, Sophie's, house while his other sister, Emily, was on an all summer road trip with her Fiance, Mike (try to keep up here). That first summer back was really hectic. I went from making a lot a week to not very much at all. I worked all the time and was tired. My mother at the time was working at our ice cream store, the Lil' Caboose. Something that summer felt really odd. I was tired, stressed, and had heart burn all the time. My mom was being a weirdo and no one could put there finger on it.
On September 20th, 2009 I received a phone call at work from my dad. Mom and dad had an argument, everyone was upset. I called my mother to see what was going on. She didn't sound too good. I wished her a goodnight and told her to get some rest and I would see her in the morning. This was the last time I ever talked to my mother. I went to the house the next day, it was beautiful out. You couldn't have asked for a better day. I walked into the house and immediately knew something was not okay. I'll save you the details, however, Mom had passed away that night. Most likely of a heart attack at 50 years old. She was diabetic since she was 4yrs old, and her body just couldn't handle it.
In between funerals, my mother had two of them, one in Worcester and one on Cape Cod, my father mentioned that he was determined to get another dog. My mother didn't want any more dogs, and since she was gone, dad wanted another one. We went to the rescue league, Dad and I, and looked at all the dogs. There were so many, but a lot of them were old, and barked a lot, and were jumpy. We don't do jumpy in this family. We came to the end of the row, and there was the black dog. He looked like he was 7 or 8. He sat quietly and starred at us. He put his paw up, and wagged his tail. His sheet said his name was Brady, and he was 2 years old. Poor guy must have been through hell and back since it looked like he was so old. He wasn't ready to be adopted and it said to ask about him at the front desk. We went to the desk and lady said that he had already been adopted but she would take our number in case something happened. My dad was disappointed. We didn't go and look for dogs after that.
After my mother's death, I was put on a low dose of something for anxiety. I couldn't sleep without it, but I also couldn't wake up. It was terrible. I tried so many times to not take it, but then I never slept.
A month and half later, my phone rang. The rescue league had said that Brady's adoption had fallen through. They asked if we were still interested and to come and check him out. My dad was off Cape so Luther and I went. Brady came out and we took him for a walk. He was so skinny, and his hair was so gross. It was falling out EVERYWHERE. We brought him back in, and Donna asked when we wanted to take him home. I was so shocked I didn't know what to say. We went back the next day, picked up Brady, and brought him to Sophie's house where he continued to shed over everything and sleep on my lap. We never told dad that we got him, it was a surprise. When dad finally got to the Cape, Luther pulled up in his car next dad and Brady was sitting in the passenger seat like a child. It was awesome.
Brady's story is that he was rescued from TN as a puppy. He was adopted by someone in Chatham. The person in Chatham has a mental break and left Brady outside with no food, water, shelter, nothing. People around town were coming over to feed him whenever they could. He had flees and scratched ALL of his hair off. At one point he was a hit by a car. Poor dude. Within a few months of our loving care, Brady grew a full beautiful coat, and gained enough weight to look like a normal dog. The first night we brought Brady home, I stopped taking the medication for anxiety. Brady was rescued on the day my mother passed away. He is the last gift I have received from my mother. I have not taken the medication since. Brady calmed me down. He loved me so much even though he had just met me. He is my son.
6 months later I started working all the time. Luther did too, and so did Dad. I felt bad leaving Brady by himself. We brought him to the rescue league so they could check him out. They were so happy that Brady was doing so well. He looks 100% different now. While there, Donna asked if Brady wanted a friend. I said, "Absolutely, as long as his friend is as good as Brady. I won't take a crazy dog." 2 weeks later I had a phone call from the Rescue League again. They had just got in another dog name, "Fur". Fur is dumb name so they changed it Ferguson. They asked if I wanted to go and meet him. How can you resist a name like Ferguson? I had to go see. I brought Brady with me, and my cousin Shelby. Ferguson came strutting, and I mean STRUTTING, out. He looked just like Brady, but a little dumber. Ferguson came right over to me and leaned on my legs. We took him for a walk and leaned on me the whole time. Brady and Ferguson played together, Brady was excited. Ferguson however, at the time was a little fat, and therefore got tired really quickly. 3 days later, Ferguson was mine.
Ferguson's story: He came from one of the Carolina's. I'm not quite sure which one. He was left in a kitchen with 16 other dogs. He was incredibly afraid of men, and still is sorta. He's kind of full of anxiety, and everything scares him. He eats really fast, and Luther and I figure that it's because he lived with so many dogs, that he had to eat really fast. We think Ferguson was beaten, he has nightmares. At night, Ferguson has to snuggle with me. He gets a little weird if he doesn't. When I get really busy some weeks and finally get to sit down, Ferguson will come and sit on top of me and I can read his mind, "Okay Mom, you have not spent any time with me and I am not okay with this. You will love me RIGHT NOW! I am sitting on you and you have no where to go!" Ferguson is a little love bug. He is my son. Ferguson was also famous last year. He made it the Cape Cod Times! Check it out! It's called, "Does the Pooch Need a Chiropractor?" He had a full page story of himself with beautiful pictures!
Brady and Ferguson, despite how awesome they are, are little trouble makers. Brady enjoys eating Uggs. He thinks they are stuffed animals. When you come home, Brady always greets you! He brings you gifts, like pieces of my plants, socks, and leaves. Ferguson eats EVERYTHING. He has eaten: full bananas, bread of any loaf, pizza dough, chocolate covered gummy bears, duraflame logs, tin cans, dog poop, knitting needles, game pieces, whole avocados, sandwiches left unattended, and he likes to destroy Brady's stuffed animals. Don't have time to pay attention to Ferguson? Well, he's going to poop right next to you, and it's going to be big, and smell really bad. In his mind, "That'll teach ya!" Despite their bad habits, they are so good at heart, really. I am never lonely. I never cry alone. They are very protective of us. I always have fun with them. Their favorite thing to do: Car rides with the windows down. You can't go wrong. They also like fetch, belly rubs, and snuggle time. They are also fans of TV shows.
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