We all know that Pomeranians are cute and if you are lucky they are also affectionate. They have a reputation for being little bitch lap dogs that must be held and pampered. Not my Teddy.
He is a seven pound, raggy, eighteen year old, junk yard dog. Just like an old man, he is grouchy, doesn’t always smell great, hates getting a bath, runs when his brush comes out. We try to keep his hair short, but with the thick undercoat of all Poms it knots all the time.
Again like a little old man, he doesn’t see well, is deaf as a door knob and growls when you want him to do something he doesn’t want to do. He sleeps at least twenty or so hours out of twenty-four. And he gives you a lick and a nuzzle when you least expect it.
There is one more similarity he has to his human counterpart. He loves routine. Since we have lived on this small dead-end street longer than just about anyone else, Teddy is the mayor of the block. He goes out by the front door and comes home in the back through his doggy door. We like this set-up and so does he. So what’s the problem you ask?
Kindly do gooders keep rescuing him from the streets, put him in their car, drive anywhere from a few blocks to several miles away, then call us up and report that they have found our dog. A dog that was just fine if they had left him alone.
One time we got a call before we knew he was missing. A woman claimed she had found a small puppy, his phone number is around his neck, and that she would bring him home to keep him safe and we could come get him the next day because she wasn’t going straight home. Fortunately we were pacing and looked out the front window while still on the phone. There was the woman, holding a very unhappy, squirming pom, while she spoke to me. I said put the dog down. Boy was she surprised. Again I repeated, put the dog down. She reluctantly did and he came scrambling up my driveway. I opened the door and he jumped in. Since I was still holding the phone and so was she, I thanked her and hung up.
Another time, we were on vacation and my daughter and her husband were good enough to watch Teddy for us. Sure enough he got out from under their gate and was rescued by someone who read the phone number did a reverse phone book and brought him back to my home. I was still on vacation. A neighbor across the street recognized Teddy as ours and took him. Being kind he left Teddy in his yard and went to buy dog food. Meanwhile my son-in-law was frantically searching up and down his neighborhood. Finally, in desperation he decided to drive to my house to leave a note on the front door in case anyone should find Teddy. Sure enough when he pulled up to the house Teddy was sitting on the front porch waiting for him. He had escaped from the neighbor’s house and came directly home.
There are countless other times that people have tried to rescue our little old Teddy. Please stop. Maybe there is a lonely Lab or a lost Newfoundland that needs your well-meaning assistance, but as for us and our eighteen year old Pom, Teddy, we are all just fine!