This is Mary.
She is the neighborhood food whore. She’ll do anything…anything…if it only involves quivering with excitement and drooling to get a treat.
I’ve told you Payton was the first neighbor we met when we came to the lake.
Mary was the second. Donna was the third, but she doesn’t beg for treats. She can talk.
Mary is a rescue. Actually, both are rescues. They have a nice family now. Mary showed up in our little neighborhood a couple of years ago with a cat collar choking her neck. She could barely swallow or breathe. She was skin and bones. Her new dad cut the collar off and fed her and loved her. She’s a sweet dog. He saw Payton out walking down our street on a leash with his owner several times. A few months later, he ran into him at a repair shop where he’d been abandoned. The shop owner said he could have him, so Payton came to live with Mary.
She may not be the prettiest old dog in the world, but she’s sweet.
These are the treats that can now be found in our house.
This is great for us. We don’t have time for pets right now. When I go to work, I’m gone at least four days, sometimes more. My guy will be gone all day. A pet would get lonely at home all day by himself. Mary and Payton show up every morning and several times a day. Then, they go home. When we’ve been gone and return home, they’ll follow us down the driveway as we’re parking. Both would climb in and go for a ride, if we let them.
This is Mary at noon.
She’s a bit shy. It took her 5 months to get up the nerve to come inside the house. She’d stop at the open doorway and quiver, but never come inside. Finally, she started following Payton. He has no fear. He’s a Dachshund. They’re fearless.
This is Mary at 3 pm. She’s looking at the treat I’m holding in my hand trying to get her to look at the camera. She’s afraid of the camera. She’s afraid of anything you hold in your hand. I tried to feed her bits of a hot dog I cut with a butter knife. She cowered back, afraid of the knife. I hid the knife and fed her by hand.
This is Mary at 5 pm after her latest treat. We only give them 1 or 2 per visit. She’s shaking hands. I think she’s left handed.
By 7pm they’re home with their mom and dad.
Did you know . . .
Zebras are black?
Regardless the color of their stripes, their skin is black. And . . . they’re the only animal that can see colors, except orange. They can’t see orange.
But . . . how do they know? Did they ask them?