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A Raindrop w/ many aka's

 

Raindrop ( I learned this being his real name much later! )  is one of the many Lodge Grass town dogs, an intact male past his prime, roaming around on the lookout for his next match. Since I had quite some females in heat around the office, someday he just showed up and then joined my breakfast club. He is sweet, but hyper, always has to check every single pile of dogfood I put out for everyone to eat in peace before finally settling for one.

 

^{After some days he strolled across the alleyway and next thing I hear was a big fight and scream. When I stepped outside, I spotted Raindrop flat on his back and a lean grey/white Pittbull on top of him and he won't let go of his front paw. I stepped in just armed with a handful gravel, threw it in the ring and the Pittbull eventually let go. Raindrop was badly hurt, his pad almost cut in half, one toe slit as well. He limped back, blood everywhere. So he started to eat his piece of humble pie and licked his paw. At that moment, there was nothing I could do for him other than provide food, water, a clean area to rest and a squirt of Vetericyn wound care once in a while.} 

 

A week later, a guy I know as Clint comes by and says that the one I called meanwhile ‘Limpy McLuski’ is his dog Raindrop and that he wondered where he went. I told him what happened and that I will keep helping with the healing and food. When I asked if he would like to get him neutered, Clint said he wouldn't mind. That made me smile and I put Raindrop on our list. 

 

It’s been meanwhile 4 weeks since the attack and it is still healing and he is still limping, but it is getting better, slowly, because he did not slowdown in chasing other males away on three legs, the hurt one held straight forward like a knight his lance during jousting. He makes me laugh and he is always there when called. I wish we had more funds already so I could run him to the vet and get it done, give him more peace in his older age and settle down with Clint at his house, maybe come to visit me once in a while. Until then I will have to call him back and make his neck hair come down when he thinks that ‘other guy’ needs to leave.

 

I gave him a bright green collar yesterday so people know he has an owner. The FedEx driver stops every day, hands out treats and called him 'Tripod'. We both laughed. And now everyone walking by is laughing, me calling him ‘Sir Tripod’ when he is again jousting the other males away, still with a full 4-legged confidence and a needless pair of testicles driving him.

 

It would be so much more peaceful if we could get some testosterone out of the town by neutering more of these males.