Lucky's Page

Weight: 30
Breed: Mix
Age when diagnosed: 8

Tumors:

LUCKY LOU GIBSON – OUR TASMANIAN DEVIL

Lucky was found running the streets of Harrisonburg Virginia at one year of age. He wore a tag that said only “Lucky” – no phone or other contact info. Someone was either very dumb or didn’t want him back. The young woman who found him brought him to the shelter where I volunteered, saying that he was “kind of hyper.” He looked like someone had mixed a Lab with a Dalmatian, shrunk him to half size, and given him a terrier tail. I befriended him over a period of a month, finally realizing that I was thinking of him every minute that I wasn’t visiting him. So the sell job on both the husband and the landlady began and I emerged with dog number three and paying more rent. Things did not go smoothly at first, as dog number two (Fred), also a Dalmatian mix male, decided that he literally was going to eat Lucky out of jealousy. Lucky was absolutely fearless of Fred regardless and did everything he could do to get near the angry Fred. Some obedience and socializing took care of Fred and the two boys and our benevolent alpha Bianca (lab mix) bonded well. Lucky exhibited some clear talents, like the ability to round up about 70 cows in about 7 minutes (neighbors’ cows he should NOT be rounding up), the ability to imitate a mad dog with dilated pupils and a Cujo act. A fence took care of his herding tendency and we decided that he might not be Dalmatian after all, but Border Collie mix. He had other skills also, like the ability to open coolers, purses, brief cases, and bags. Many a day I would arrive at work to find the muffin I’d packed in my lunch mysteriously missing.
When we moved to our own acreage Lucky came into his own, playing madly in our fenced yard with the other dogs, shaking his toys at visitors, barking at my rescue cows (and trying to bite their noses through the cattle fence), and other times doing basically whatever my husband or I were doing. He was the perfect player, perfect companion, and perfect clown. Walking with us on our trails he stayed with us, never wanted to leave, and never bothered the wildlife. He did shake his toys in the other dogs’ faces to irritate them. He harvested green beans in the garden, so much so that I had to plant a plot of “dog beans” and fence my beans in. Lucky was enthusiastic about EVERYTHING and lived life more fully than anyone I know. He did, though, make up his own rules. One day when a farmer, Mike, delivered some hay to us, Lucky jumped through the bull gate and ran over and bit him in the butt. Lucky was so cute that Mike actually laughed. When I cooked corn muffins for a new friend who was coming over, I found Lucky in the middle of the dining room table in a sea of corn bread crumbs and one muffin left. When I gave a wedding shower in my backyard, Lucky (who had been absent from the shower for good reason) returned during clean up, jumped on a table and began drinking the leftover punch out of a bowl as big as he was. Some people were not amused by Lucky’s behavior and I was glad that I had gotten him because some would have returned him for euthanasia. But he was our joy. Lucky knew how to live in the present, make everything fun, and make the “time rhyme.” He was never far from us – usually about nine inches. If you yawned, his nose went in your mouth. When he met new women, he would jump up and bonk them in the nose with his nose. Men he would try to scare with the devil act. He sat on my lap the whole time I was writing my book and now he is on the back cover of the second edition with me. He died six days after delivery of the printed second edition. A friend said, “It’s like he’s the little spirit of the book.” He also taught two of my foster dogs to play. Neither seemed to know how to play with dogs and both are now well-socialized and placed in homes with other dogs.
Despite his antics, Lucky was exceedingly smart and knew when to keep it in the bag. When he became sick and had to go to the vet for vitamin C IVs, he would arrive tail wagging and carrying his Barney stuffed animal - the perfect gentleman. In fact the workers there declared that “Lucky has a better temperament that any of the other dogs who come here.” They refused to believe me about any of his home antics and pronounced him an angel. Now he truly is an angel and we have too soon lost the baby of our family, our doggie son. The holistic treatments gave him great quality of life through all but the last couple of weeks of the eight months he lived with OS. He fought hard, took vitamins with a wagging tail, and never gave up going to the barn even if he had to ride in the garden cart. He was sitting in the sun with his pack wagging his tail five minutes before he died. If only we could all be as strong and as fun as Lucky.

Pictures

Lucky with toy Barney Lucky with toy Barney