“Boing”, “boing”, “boing”...The scrawny black dog bounced and circled, jumped and twisted back and forth inside kennel # 7 at the Friends of Animals Shelter. Pong had enough pep to drive you crazy. Full of energy one moment, the next time you looked she would lie curled in a corner, only her eyes shifting to watch you walk past. When it was her turn to go outside to the “potty” yard, she would meet you gladly at her kennel door, but when she stepped out, her back legs would give way as she headed across the cement shelter floor. Pongo walked as though her feet hurt upon touching the hard surface.

       Day after day she was checked, rechecked, de-wormed, poked and prodded, x-rayed and tested. It was a guessing game. Pongo was not well, but no answer fit her malady. The veterinarians were stumped. Weeks went by. Pongo ate well, but remained very thin. “Let’s try this...no, let’s try that. Her legs were weaker than before. She would never be adopted.

       Finally out of sheer frustration one of the shelter workers said, “I’ll take her home and see if she gets any better there.” Pongo wobbled her way to the car and pulled herself in.

       At the end of the ride, the skinny dog climbed out of the worker’s car. She stood for a moment, not sure of what was happening or where she was. Swinging her head slowly from side to side, she then bent to sniff the green grass at her feet. Suddenly Pongo rolled onto her back into that lush grass and positively snuffled in deep breaths of it, nibbling and nipping. If she could have spoken she’d have been shouting,  “Grass! Real grass!” She stood. She walked. The limp was not there.

       During the following days, the dog that was at death’s door raced over the fields, pure glee in every leap.

       Meanwhile, living on the western side of Minnesota were Ted, Jean, six-year-old Hannah, and Chester, a seven-year-old Doberman/lab mix. Ted and Chester’s favorite activity was skijoring, Chester in harness pulling Ted over the snow. With Chester’s advancing age, Jean and Ted thought it might be time to look for a buddy for Chester, to train to skijor with him and for companionship in the house. The family soon discovered that Chester was very fussy in his requirements for a new friend. They looked from shelter to shelter, introducing Chester to one dog after another. Chester didn’t approve of any of them. He’d growl. Or he would cower and hide. Almost two years passed and no friend for Chester had yet passed his inspection.

       Ted happened to visit the shelter worker’s family one day. Pongo ran full speed into him in one of her exuberant races through the fields. Ted’s eyes lit up as he watched her. “I’d like to see what Chester thinks of this one.” The following week the two families met. Jean stepped out of the car with Chester on his leash. Pongo stepped toward him. Chester pulled Jean forward. Both Jean and the shelter worker gripped each dog's leash tightly, as Ted and Hannah watched closely. Then Pongo laid on the ground, head on her paws, tail wagging slightly. Chester bent his head to sniff her nose. Pongo was still.

       Chester wagged his tail. HE WAGGED HIS TAIL! The two dogs began to frisk back and forth with little play bows. All afternoon they frolicked and played. Tiny Hannah laughed and danced around them.

       At the end of the visit Jean turned to Hannah and asked, “How would you like Pongo to live with Chester and us?” Hannah's eyes lit up. “Oh, yes!”

       Hannah ran over to Pongo. Holding the dog’s face in her hands and looking earnestly into her eyes, Hannah said, “Pongo, my name is Hannah...and I am your new owner!”

Epilogue: Chester and Pongo will be training for more ski races next winter. They pulled ed to a 7th place finish (out of 9) in their final race this season.

Diane Finke