If the Collar Fits

This is the ninth in a series on our sweet rescue dog, Ellie. That’s Ellie Mae.

Four of my favorite gal pals gathered at our spot, Christmas Eve, including Ellie Mae the dog, now with us exactly one month to the day from the Humane Society of Inland Mendocino County. Along with hostess Ellie Mae were Large Marge, Emma and Delta, Ben-JAM-In’s German Shepherd, an 11-week old search-and-rescue dog in the making. 

Delta arrived first and Ellie Mae was inquisitive, polite and most importantly, friendly. I say most importantly because Delta had been experiencing some nervousness around “big dogs.” Ellie is not big by conventional standards, weighing in at 45 pounds, a three-pound gain in the four weeks we have had her, but compared to eleven-week-old Delta, Ellie Mae is big.

Delta at seven weeks.

   

Large Marge, aka Margie rolled in later with the start of the San Francisco Forty-Niners’ rousing victory over the playoff-bound Jacksonville Jaguars. Not to brag but ever since Ellie Mae joined us, the local gridiron favorite has posted a 4-0 record, after beginning the season 1-9. 

If you got it flaunt it, and I have Ellie Mae, Secret Weapon.

Apparently Margie and Delta had already crossed paths earlier in the day, up at HeadSodBuster’s, resulting in Margie exhibiting a cantankerous side to her three-year-old self. She had the unmitigated gall to nip Delta, who had been enthusiastically inviting Margie to participate in some puppy play.

“You could have just declined,” Delta might have said to Margie, but it also served the purpose of enlightening Delta to the fact that not all dogs want to cavort. Furthermore, when Emma the Great Dane mix strolled in, all she had by way of greeting to Delta, was a growl.

Emma outweighs Ellie Mae and Margie by sixty pounds at least, so she must look like Babe the Blue Ox to Delta, who was willing to take Emma’s word for [anything]. With Margie in the immediate vicinity, Delta was content to let discretion dictate her further sense of adventure.

Who distinguished herself by providing a safe port for puppy Delta? Cough. None other than Ellie Mae, who is the only one of the trio of older dogs who has gone the route of Motherhood. Ellie Mae was patient, cognizant of Delta’s age and more than willing to play games with the rejuvenated pup. 

Ellie Mae loves it when her gal pals come by for romps. She can outrun any of them, even though she is so much smaller than Emma it is ridiculous. Whereas Emma has huge strides and covers a lot of territory, Ellie Mae is nothing short of lightning-fast. 

Ellie Mae on a walk

The information on Black Mouth Curs emphasized that this breed needs room to sprint. It matters not to me whether Ellie Mae is or is not a BMC, she is by definition a sprinter. If the collar fits, buckle that beast in place and don’t look back.

There were five or six adults situated in our living room, and all four dogs, each with her own spot. We were watching Sunday football, a jigsaw puzzle under way, and the living was easy. I had fretted that all of the company would stimulate Ellie Mae but she was golden.

For one thing, unlike her predecessor, Ellie Mae does not beg at the table. The other day at lunch, when Gluten-Free Mama had hooked everyone up with fish tacos, I was proud as a peacock that Ellie Mae was curled up in her bed, ignoring what must have been a tantalizing fragrance wafting through the air.

All puppies have that one auntie...

For Ellie Mae to be the perfect hostess, raking in big ups from all present, warms the cockles of my heart. GF Mama and I were inspired in the first place by a friend who stayed on-farm for quite a spell, who had a rescue dog as a companion. 

The bond was so strong, and the dog so devoted to her Designated Human, it was inspiring. Minimal dialogue was required for Gluten-Free Mama and I to make our choice, and we are now able to experience firsthand, the rewards of going the rescue dog route.

Ellie Mae or may not always do the perfect thing, but the bad things are little and the good things are big, like being nice to a little puppy, or replacing the piece of our hearts that was missing. 

FORTY-NINERS? Hey nothing against,
but read my lips: Buster Posey