Orphan Urban Annie

Living in a rural area you would think that a family here could
have a pet that could roam around freely. Not true. Especially
when the road you live on is traveled frequently because it
connects two counties.

My son learned of death early in life. I guess that is part of
farm life. A few years ago we were grieving the loss of our
puppy, Sissy. The road had taken her young life. My husband and
I had decided that we would not try to keep another dog around
the house, but fate has a funny way of changing your mind.

A few days later, when my son, Lee and I pulled in the driveway,
he spotted a small dog in our yard. He was so excited, but when
the little dog saw us, it took off running toward the field. Lee
begged me to follow the dog so he could get a better look. I
backed out of the driveway and followed along side the road.
Smart little dog. When it saw us following, it turned around and
ran back towards the house. I explained to my son that the dog
was probably wild and that it was best to leave it alone.

An hour later Lee came running through the house bursting with
joy. The little dog was sitting by the fence row close to our
yard. I followed him outside and saw the little dog just sitting
there staring at us. It looked so pitiful and Lee was so happy
that the dog had came back. He pleaded with me to get the little
thing in the yard. I couldn’t resist because I was a bit
lighthearted myself.

I got a pack of hotdogs and we sat on the grass. We threw pieces
of hotdogs, slowly leading it to us. This took some time and Lee
surprised me with his patience. I believe it took us over an
hour to get the dog close enough that I could see the dog’s doe
like face. The dog eventually came to us, but made sure it kept
a safe distance. Lee wanted to know what kind of dog it was and
I didn’t have a clue. I called it a Wishbone dog, after the
children’s show because of the resemblance.

When my husband came home we started the grill and I kept a
close eye on Lee and the dog. Everytime Lee tried to pet the
dog, it would fall down and hide its head. This really bothered
Lee. He asked us why the dog did that, and I explained that the
dog probably had been mistreated. It was a heartbreaking sight.
Lee expressed compassion for the little thing, lying in the
grass on his belly just watching.

At one point the little dog rolled over and Lee shouted, “it’s a
girl!” My husband asked how he knew that, and Lee replied,
“cause, look at all those milkers!” We laughed so hard. It was
one of those precious, memorable moments.

Lee asked if we could keep the dog, and after several minutes of
worry me over the ordeal I reluctantly agreed. I just knew the
dog would disappear in a few days and be on her way. She didn’t.

It got to the point that I was tired of calling her, the dog. I
told Lee that we needed to name her. I wanted to name her
Wishbone, but Lee had a better idea. To my surprise, he came out
with the name, Orphan Annie. He couldn’t say the word orphan
very well, and it sounded like he was saying, Urban Annie. He
would get frustrated that no one understood and eventually
accepted the name, Urban Annie. I tried to help him along with
pronouncing the name he wanted but he came up with the idea that
she could have two names. So, Orphan Urban Annie became part of
the family.

That little dog was the best thing that could have happened to
all of us at that time. She eventually learned to trust us,
letting us pet her without fear. She would ride to the store
with me, hanging her head out the window and letting her ears
flap in the wind.

When we went to Granny’s house, just a piece down the road to
work in the garden, Annie would follow us. She traveled along
the ditch line, never getting in the road. She was an old dog
and very wise. By the time she got to the garden, she would be
wore out. I remember several times we would start to go to
Granny’s and would see Annie in the rear view mirror trotting
after us as if she feared we were leaving her. We would turn
around just to pick her up. We truly loved her.

My father-in-law even became attached to Annie. He would take
Annie with him to feed cattle. It was a hilarious sight. He
would pick Annie up and put her on the front rack of the
4-wheeler. She would ride all day long and would just sit there
watching him feed. He also bought her special little treats and
if the truth was to be known, when he cooked his supper, he
cooked extra for Annie.

Annie’s popularity grew. Many folks in our community knew Annie.
No one knew where she came from but recognized her on sight. She
went a lot of places with us. Sometimes, I would go looking for
her only to find out that my father-in-law took her to the gas
station with him.

One Sunday evening tragedy shocked our family. My brother-in-law
pulled up in the driveway, his face strickened with grief. He
told me and my husband that Annie was lying on the side of the
road, dead. I was devastated. We discussed not telling Lee the
truth, to let him think that Annie had went home. I couldn’t
bring myself to lie, nor could I bring myself to tell my son
that Annie was gone. While my husband and brother-in-law went to
go get Annie, I sat down with Lee and told him the truth. We
both shed a lot of tears. Lee crawled up in my lap and I
embraced him showering him with all my love.

I was so angry when I found out that Annie had been run over
while in the ditch. The tire tracks told a senseless tale. Some
heartless, cruel and soul lacking person had steered their
vehicle in the ditch just to murder our loved one. My
brother-in-law told me that the vehicle came close to hitting a
lightpole close to Annie, and he wished it had.

We buried Orphan Urban Annie that evening. It was a quiet
evening. I think we all were lost in our own thoughts, our own
grief.

When I tucked Lee into bed that night, he asked me if I thought
Urban Annie was happy being his dog. I choked back tears and
replied that she had been very happy. I said that we had been a
gift to her, giving her a happy and loving home. Lee told me
that she had been his gift because he loved her so. Tears slowly
streamed down my cheeks and he softly wiped them away. He told
me not to cry because Urban Annie was in a better place
now…she was in Heaven with Ole Pa. Ole Pa would take care of
her and love her just like we did. I hugged him and just cried.
This six-year old little boy’s love touched my heart and soul. I
was awed with his perception and tenderness. A calmness settled
over me and I think that is when I found a sense of peace with
our loss. A precious moment in time defined by a child’s
love…priceless.

We still talk about Orphan Urban Annie and all the fond memories
she left us with. I will never forget her or the night Lee
soothed my aching heart. His courage and compassion touches me
everyday.