BY VICKI LOVERN
(Kyle’s Corner this week is written by guest columnist Vicki Lovern, wife of Kyle Lovern.)
Similar to the popular television series: “Everybody Loves Raymond,” we can say the same thing about our late pup-dog, Petey. In our neighborhood at least – everybody did love Petey – well nearly everybody. There were perhaps a few neighbors who may not have particularly appreciated Pete’s penchant for stealing anything that was not tied down in their yards or on their porches. However, that was only when he first came to our neighborhood – as a little stray from the hills – running wild and carefree from house to house and before we took him in as ours.
Petey was a Beagle mix hound that adopted us one hot June day in 2010. I say “adopted us” because, out of all the houses at Valley View, he came right out of the hills directly to ours. We watched as he gingerly made his way down over the rocks and through the bushes and trees on the mountainside across the road from our house. I know it may sound ridiculous, but I swear – as Kyle and I watched this scraggly, dirty little mutt – determinedly maneuvering his path down the hillside, we could just tell that there was something special about him. We looked at one another and both of us smiled.
“Where’s he going?” I asked and Kyle shrugged and shook his head. It did not take long for us to find out because the little fellow, without hesitation, immediately crossed the road to our yard.
Kyle was mowing the lawn and Pete just started following behind him like he had been doing that all of his life. When Kyle finished mowing, I brought him a sandwich and a glass of water and brought Pete a bowl of water and a piece of bologna. Though the pup was a bit shy, he happily drank his water and ate his food.
As the two of them sat on the porch stoop enjoying their snacks, I got a better look at our new little friend. Upon closer inspection, he was really rough-looking, with dirty, matted hair. We thought, at first, that he might be blind because he had one brown eye and one blue eye, but the blue eye was extremely cloudy and pale. It was obvious that he had not been well taken care of and quite possibly was abused. His neck had a huge, raw ring around it, where someone had either tied his collar too tight or even worse – tried to hang or choke him. But there was no collar on him when he came to us.
He slept on our porch stoop that first night and for the next few weeks – until I kept sneaking him in the house to where Kyle eventually acquiesced and agreed that he could live inside. Don’t misunderstand – Kyle absolutely adored Petey. At the time, however, he just didn’t think he was an “indoor dog.” I knew that he was though because I had been letting him sleep in the garage and he never even used the bathroom there. He actually never even liked to do it anywhere near our home – which would prove to keep Kyle in shape from all those long walks up Cinderella Hollow over the years.
So one evening, when Kyle was away at a ballgame, I let Pete come upstairs into the living room. I do believe that was the first time that he had ever been indoors because he was so timid and hesitant and didn’t really know what to do. He just went around sheepishly sniffing everything and kept looking at me for reassurance that it was OK for him to be there. Of course, that completely melted my heart and I knew then that we had to convince Kyle that Pete was indeed an indoor doggie. It was not going to be that night however. When Kyle came home and saw Pete in the living room – well, let’s just say that sometimes “silence is not golden.” He didn’t say a word – just looked at Pete, then looked at me – shook his head and turned and went upstairs. Nope – not tonight Pete.
Never to be deterred by a mere one-time refusal, Pete and I tried it again a few nights later with much more success. This time, Kyle observed how well-behaved Petey was – and coupled with my pleading: “We can’t really enjoy him if he stays outside all of the time,” he reluctantly relented and agreed to a trial run. So I picked all the ticks off Petey, gave him a bath, got him some flea and tick and heartworm meds, and a pretty blue leash and collar to go with his pretty blue eye. Soon his “pale, blue eye with a film over it” (as Poe would have described it) cleared up from all of the TLC he was receiving and became a sparkling deep blue that he could thankfully see out of just fine.
We also, of course, had our little guy neutered – which, considering how much he loved the ladies was a considerably prudent decision. Everybody loved Petey and, believe me, he pretty much loved everybody right back – particularly the females. Petey was a hound dog through and through and a ladies man to his core. Both human girls and doggie ones – none were exempt from his pup-dog charms. His procedure though did nothing whatsoever to diminish his “friskiness.” Our pup-dog was just as amorous as ever. I’ve often said that had we not taken him in, there’s no telling how many beagle-mixed pups would be running around Valley View and Cinderella.
Petey was such an enigma because, despite his disheveled appearance when he first arrived, he somehow was already house-broken, knew how to take commands like “sit” and “paw” and “down,” and had an extensive vocabulary that would put some people to shame. And much to our delight, he won both the “Best Trick” and “Most Vocal” at our church’s pet contest.
He won best trick for being able to sniff out a treat we had hidden. Kyle would cover his eyes while I would hide the treat. And regardless of where I hid the treat or how far away, Petey had such an acute sense of smell that he would inevitably find it within seconds. This was one of his favorite games and we played it at home all the time.
He won “Most Vocal” for almost getting into a fight with another dog there who was sniffing him a bit too closely. He certainly taught us the inspiration for Elvis’ song, “Hound Dog” – “Ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog – crying all the time.” Because pup-dog surely could cry when he really wanted something.
Kyle now says that it was one of the best decisions he ever made in letting Pete stay inside and is like a proud papa when talking about how smart he was. Throughout the years, Kyle and Petey developed quite the bond. Although he may have been my baby, he was most assuredly Kyle’s best buddy. Some of my favorite memories are of watching them sitting on the bank in our backyard, overlooking our mountain stream, Kyle with his hand resting on Pete’s back, both of them just gazing wistfully into the distance.
When Pete first came to us, before he was living inside, he would take any treats or bones that we or the neighbors gave him and run down our hill, through the creek and up the other side of the mountain to hide his goodies. It’s hard to say how many bones are still buried there today. Petey was a free-spirit and I’m not sure ever completely domesticated. He also spent many a hot afternoon splashing in the cool water of our little mountain stream. Kyle and Petey would go for long walks every morning and evening like clockwork. And you could definitely set your watch to Pete’s schedule for he had an internal clock that never failed.
He has been such a blessing to us and to my dear mom as well. When she was sick and living with us before she passed, he would help me wake her up each morning. All I had to do was put her hand on his soft little head, and once she felt his fur, she would pat his head and say, “There’s my little buddy.” Then, she would slowly turn to rise from her bed.
Yes, pretty much everybody in the neighborhood loved Petey – even though he had quite the reputation as a little thief. Every afternoon, when Kyle and I got home from work – and – again, before we had let him move inside, we would find our yard covered in an assortment of neighbors’ shoes and even some flower pots and tools. Anything left outside was fair game for Pete to snatch and our garage held quite the stash of his many “gifts.” Despite this one little flaw, Pete’s disarming manner won most everyone over.
From young to old, from leaving treats out for him to find, to watching “Peter Pan” (as one neighbor called him) when we went on vacation, from the school bus driver who would stop and open the bus door so Pete could jump up the stairs and onto the bus to the delight of all the children aboard – to his special friend with Save our Strays, to all the mail carriers throughout the years, to pretty much the entire Mingo County Board of Education employees – who would stop on their way to work to say hi to our pup-dog – to his wonderful Vet and all her staff, to of course, all of our friends and family – and especially to us – his mommy and daddy, who will be forever thankful for our own precious pup-dog – everybody did indeed love Petey.