The Story of Apollo's Adoption

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The Remarkable Story of Apollo's adoption
Cima's story
Athena, SavannahBest’s regal mascot, longed for a playmate. She’d tried, to little avail, for nearly four years, to persuade her feline housemates to play with her. Her two devoted owners played with her as often as they could, but they spent all too much time glued to computers.

When doggie friends came to visit, they romped about the house in wild abandon for hours at a time, and when they departed, Athena gazed wistfully at the closing door.

I began to think of a puppy for Athena. Someone told me of a sweet female Cocker Spaniel puppy available for adoption, and though I knew Athena would love the cavorting of a youngster, I also knew that she takes her Greek Goddess name quite seriously, and would never allow another female to be more than Second Dog.

Then a brief spot appeared on WTOC-TV one night, about a young Chow Mix who looked remarkably like Athena, who had been found, seriously injured internally and externally. The people who found him couldn’t keep him, so they called a local veterinarian, a kind-hearted soul, Dr. Patrick Bremer, of the Bremer Veterinarian Clinic. He took the dog in, and after surgeries and medicine and treatments for six weeks, pronounced the young dog, who he figured to be 19 months old, well and ready for adoption.

We all, Athena, Jack and me, got in the car and drove out to meet the dog. Athena and he played happily together in the back yard of the Bremer Clinic.

Would you like him for an adopted brother, I asked Athena. Yes, she smiled.

Clearly, he could get along with cats, because there were several roaming about the clinic, and the dog paid little attention to them. He knew how to Sit, to Shake Hands, and he was housetrained.

And so, Apollo was adopted and named, and came to live in Gordonston. Athena, gratified, treats him as a Goddess of Justice and Peace could be expected to treat a Sun God, deferring to him in some ways, including allowing him to be fed first. She showed him the ways of the house, and taught him to wake up the Master of the house for daily, early morning walks.

And the ghosts of the ancient Greeks smiled upon them.

Apollo's story
He staggered, weak and gasping for breath, limping, up the few short steps to the porch of the house. Something about that house, the scent, perhaps, the shape, maybe the voice of a little girl inside, spoke to him of help….of safety.

Collapsed on the porch in pain, which seemed to reverberate inside to out and down to his paws, he waited. Muzzle and tongue, nose and eyes felt blistered. Desperately, he needed water, and he needed air but each breath seemed to radiate pain from his lungs.

Only dimly aware now, he accepted water and the strokes of the girl’s hand on his matted, bedraggled fur. Voices sounded above him. He was lifted into a vehicle.

When he awakened, he was in a bright, white room. A tall man with a kind voice and a gentle touch stood over him, moving him gently, stroking, and talking. Women with soft voices stroked his head.

He wasn’t thirsty anymore. Nor hungry. Nor in pain. He slept again. And woke. And sensed there were strange things attached to parts of his body. But the pain and thirst and hunger were gone, and so he didn’t mind. Everything was still fuzzy, but he felt safe.

Later, an hour, a day, a week, he never knew, he was standing up and walking outdoors with a young woman who talked to him constantly, reassuringly. And he ate, and drank, and walked, only a little stiffly, with her.

Time slipped by and he was out in a grassy yard, playing with young smiling women, before returning to what he now knew was his den. He wasn’t crazy about being in this big cage with the wire meshed door, but they often walked with him and he got to play in the grassy yard, sometimes with other dogs. That was fun!

One day, a man and a woman came to visit with a big red dog who seemed somehow familiar to him. He ran in circles with her, twirling as dogs do, sniffing their hellos, chewing tentatively on an ear, a leg, and twining into circles again. That was fun, too. The humans hugged and petted him, and he played some more with the red dog. And then they left.

A couple of days later, they came again, this time without the dog, and they took him for a longer walk and romped and ran with him, and admired his now glossy red fur and upward furling, furry tail.

And a few days later, they came again, and put him into their car and took him to a big house with huge glass sliding doors that opened onto a patio filled with big plants just made for a young happy dog. And there was the big red dog, who showed him around the whole house, upstairs and down, and played with him and finally, lay by his side. The people hugged and cuddled him, and he couldn’t get enough of this. And they didn’t send him away. Instead, they showered him with hugs and kisses and walks and treats, which were ever present in their pockets.

Days passed, and he realized that the other dog’s name was Athena and that his new name was Apollo.

And Apollo knew, because they told him so every day, that he’d never be alone and frightened and thirsty and hungry again. He was home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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