Orphan Urban Annie

Living in a rural area you would think that a family here could have a pet that could roam around freely. Not true. Especially when the road you live on is traveled frequently because it connects two counties. My son learned of death early in life. I guess that is part of farm life. A few years ago we were grieving the loss of our puppy, Sissy. The road had taken her young life. My husband and I had decided that we would not try to keep another dog around the house, but fate has a funny way of changing your mind. A few days later, when my son, Lee and I pulled in the driveway, he spotted a small dog in our yard. He was so excited, but when the little dog saw us, it took off running toward the field. Lee begged me to follow the dog so he could get a better look. I backed out of the driveway and followed along side the road. Smart little dog. When it saw us following, it turned around and ran back towards the house. I explained to my son that the dog was probably wild and that it was best to leave it alone. An hour later Lee came running through the house bursting with joy. The little dog was sitting by the fence row close to our yard. I followed him outside and saw the little dog just sitting there staring at us. It looked so pitiful and Lee was so happy that the dog had came back. He pleaded with me to get the little thing in the yard. I couldn't resist because I was a bit lighthearted myself. I got a pack of hotdogs and we sat on the grass. We threw pieces of hotdogs, slowly leading it to us. This took some time and Lee surprised me with his patience. I believe it took us over an hour to get the dog close enough that I could see the dog's doe like face. The dog eventually came to us, but made sure it kept a safe distance. Lee wanted to know what kind of dog it was and I didn't have a clue. I called it a Wishbone dog, after the children's show because of the resemblance. When my husband came home we started the grill and I kept a close eye on Lee and the dog. Everytime Lee tried to pet the dog, it would fall down and hide its head. This really bothered Lee. He asked us why the dog did that, and I explained that the dog probably had been mistreated. It was a heartbreaking sight. Lee expressed compassion for the little thing, lying in the grass on his belly just watching. At one point the little dog rolled over and Lee shouted, "it's a girl!" My husband asked how he knew that, and Lee replied, "cause, look at all those milkers!" We laughed so hard. It was one of those precious, memorable moments. Lee asked if we could keep the dog, and after several minutes of worry me over the ordeal I reluctantly agreed. I just knew the dog would disappear in a few days and be on her way. She didn't. It got to the point that I was tired of calling her, the dog. I told Lee that we needed to name her. I wanted to name her Wishbone, but Lee had a better idea. To my surprise, he came out with the name, Orphan Annie. He couldn't say the word orphan very well, and it sounded like he was saying, Urban Annie. He would get frustrated that no one understood and eventually accepted the name, Urban Annie. I tried to help him along with pronouncing the name he wanted but he came up with the idea that she could have two names. So, Orphan Urban Annie became part of the family. That little dog was the best thing that could have happened to all of us at that time. She eventually learned to trust us, letting us pet her without fear. She would ride to the store with me, hanging her head out the window and letting her ears flap in the wind. When we went to Granny's house, just a piece down the road to work in the garden, Annie would follow us. She traveled along the ditch line, never getting in the road. She was an old dog and very wise. By the time she got to the garden, she would be wore out. I remember several times we would start to go to Granny's and would see Annie in the rear view mirror trotting after us as if she feared we were leaving her. We would turn around just to pick her up. We truly loved her. My father-in-law even became attached to Annie. He would take Annie with him to feed cattle. It was a hilarious sight. He would pick Annie up and put her on the front rack of the 4-wheeler. She would ride all day long and would just sit there watching him feed. He also bought her special little treats and if the truth was to be known, when he cooked his supper, he cooked extra for Annie. Annie's popularity grew. Many folks in our community knew Annie. No one knew where she came from but recognized her on sight. She went a lot of places with us. Sometimes, I would go looking for her only to find out that my father-in-law took her to the gas station with him. One Sunday evening tragedy shocked our family. My brother-in-law pulled up in the driveway, his face strickened with grief. He told me and my husband that Annie was lying on the side of the road, dead. I was devastated. We discussed not telling Lee the truth, to let him think that Annie had went home. I couldn't bring myself to lie, nor could I bring myself to tell my son that Annie was gone. While my husband and brother-in-law went to go get Annie, I sat down with Lee and told him the truth. We both shed a lot of tears. Lee crawled up in my lap and I embraced him showering him with all my love. I was so angry when I found out that Annie had been run over while in the ditch. The tire tracks told a senseless tale. Some heartless, cruel and soul lacking person had steered their vehicle in the ditch just to murder our loved one. My brother-in-law told me that the vehicle came close to hitting a lightpole close to Annie, and he wished it had. We buried Orphan Urban Annie that evening. It was a quiet evening. I think we all were lost in our own thoughts, our own grief. When I tucked Lee into bed that night, he asked me if I thought Urban Annie was happy being his dog. I choked back tears and replied that she had been very happy. I said that we had been a gift to her, giving her a happy and loving home. Lee told me that she had been his gift because he loved her so. Tears slowly streamed down my cheeks and he softly wiped them away. He told me not to cry because Urban Annie was in a better place now...she was in Heaven with Ole Pa. Ole Pa would take care of her and love her just like we did. I hugged him and just cried. This six-year old little boy's love touched my heart and soul. I was awed with his perception and tenderness. A calmness settled over me and I think that is when I found a sense of peace with our loss. A precious moment in time defined by a child's love...priceless. We still talk about Orphan Urban Annie and all the fond memories she left us with. I will never forget her or the night Lee soothed my aching heart. His courage and compassion touches me everyday.