Skip to main content

The Pretty One

By Roger Dean Kiser


It had been a very long night. Our black cocker spaniel ‘Precious’ was having a difficult delivery. I lay on the floor beside her large four-foot square cage, watching her every movement. Watching and waiting, just in case I had to rush her to the veterinarian.

After six hours the puppies started to appear. The first-born was black and white. The second and third puppies were tan and brown in color. The fourth and fifth were also spotted black and white. “One, two, three, four, five,” I counted to myself as I walked down the hallway to wake my wife, Judy, and tell her that everything was fine.

As we walked back down the hallway and into the spare bedroom, I noticed a sixth puppy had been born and was now laying all by itself over to the side of the cage. I picked up the small puppy and laid it on top of the large pile of puppies, who were whining and trying to nurse on the mother. Precious immediately pushed the small puppy away from rest of the group. She refused to recognize it as a member of her family.

“Something’s wrong,” said Judy.

I reached over and picked up the puppy. My heart sank inside my chest when I saw the little puppy had a cleft lip and palate and could not close its little mouth. I decided right there and then that if there was any way to save this animal I was going to give it my best shot.

I took the puppy to the vet and was told nothing could be done unless we were willing to spend about a thousand dollars to try and correct the defect. He told us that the puppy would die mainly because it could not suckle. After returning home, Judy and I decided that we could not afford to spend that kind of money without getting some type of assurance from the vet that the puppy had a chance to live. However, that did not stop me from purchasing a syringe and feeding the puppy by hand. Which I did every day and night, every two hours, for more than ten days. The little puppy survived and learned to eat on his own as long as it was soft canned food.

The fifth week I placed an ad in the newspaper, and within a week we had people interested in all of the pups, except the one with the deformity. Late one afternoon I went to the store to pick up a few groceries. Upon returning I happened to see the old retired schoolteacher, who lived across the street from us, waving at me. She had read in the paper that we had puppies and was wondering if she might get one from us for her grandson and his family. I told her all the puppies had found homes, but I would keep my eyes open for anyone else who might have an available cocker spaniel. I also mentioned that if someone should change their mind, I would let her know. Within days, all but one of the puppies had been picked up by their new families. This left me with one brown and tan cocker as well as the smaller puppy with the cleft lip and palate.

Two days passed without me hearing anything from the gentleman who had been promised the tan and brown pup. I telephoned the schoolteacher and told her I had one puppy left and that she was welcome to come and look at it. She advised me that she was going to pick up her grandson and would come over at about eight o’clock that evening.

That night at around seven-thirty, Judy and I were eating supper when we heard a knock on the front door. When I opened the door, the man who had wanted the tan and brown pup was standing there. We walked inside, took care of the adoption details and I handed him the puppy. Judy and I did not know what we would do or say when the teacher showed up with her grandson. At exactly eight o’clock the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and there was the schoolteacher with her grandson standing behind her. I explained to her the man had come for the puppy after all, and there were no puppies left. “I’m sorry, Jeffery. They found homes for all the puppies,” she told her grandson.

Just at that moment, the small puppy left in the bedroom began to yelp.

“My puppy! My puppy!” yelled the little boy as he ran out from behind his grandmother.

I just about fell over when I saw that the small child also had a cleft lip and palate. The boy ran past me as fast as he could, down the hallway to where the puppy was still yelping. When the three of us made it to the bedroom, the small boy was holding the puppy in his arms. He looked up at his grandmother and said, “Look, Grandma. They found homes for all the puppies except the pretty one, and he looks just like me.”

The schoolteacher turned to us, “Is this puppy available?”

“Yes,” I answered. “That puppy is available.”

The little boy, who was now hugging the puppy, chimed in, “My grandma told me these kind of puppies are real expensive and that I have to take real good care of it.”

The lady opened her purse, but I reached over and pushed her hand back down into her purse so that she would not pull her wallet out. “How much do you think this puppy is worth?” I asked the boy. “About a dollar?” “No. This puppy is very, very expensive,” he replied.

“More than a dollar?” I asked.

“I’m afraid so,” said his grandmother.

The boy stood there pressing the small puppy against his cheek. “We could not possibly take less than two dollars for this puppy,” Judy said, squeezing my hand. “Like you said, it’s the pretty one.”

The schoolteacher took out two dollars and handed it to the young boy.

“It’s your dog now, Jeffery. You pay the man.”

Still holding the puppy tightly, the boy proudly handed me the money. Any worries I’d had about the puppy’s future were gone.

The image of the little boy and his matching pup stays with me still. I think it must be a wonderful feeling for any young person to look at themselves in the mirror and see nothing, except “the pretty one.”


Comments

What people are reading...

A lesson on parenting: Father and son tread water 15 hours overnight in the Atlantic with help from Buzz Lightyear

Father and son tread water 15 hours overnight in the Atlantic with help from Buzz Lightyear This is an inspiring story about parenting.  Time and time again, as parents we are caught up in the tide of life.  Sometimes the tide gets too overwhelming that we begin to lose faith.  Tides come in different forms, it could be stress of parenting itself or a work/financial problem, and there are those tides of real physical danger much like in the news above. If you were the parent in this news, yourself and your son - two tiny specks in an infinite pool of deep blue and dangerous waters, to see your son slowly drift away while you just stare in utter helplessness would break your spirit faster than you could blink your eye.   Most parents in the same dire situation would swim themselves to death and possibly hold on for as long as humanly possible to provide an anchor or a floater for his/her kid til help arrives.  Even ...

The Last Cab Ride

A true story by Kent Nerburn Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. One time I arrived in the middle of the night for a pick up at a building that was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked. “Just a minute,” answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80′s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it ...

The Sense of Goose

by Dr. Harry Clarke Noyes  ARCS NEWS, Vol. 7, No. 1, January 1992  Next  fall, when  you see Geese  heading South for  the Winter, flying along  in V formation, you might  consider what science has dis‐  covered as to why they fly that way:  as each bird flaps its wings, it creates an  uplift for the bird immediately following. By  flying in V formation the whole flock adds at least  71% greater flying range than if each bird flew on its own.  People who share a common direction and sense of community  can get where they are going more quickly and easily  because they are traveling on the thrust of one another.  When  a goose falls  out of formation,  it suddenly feels the drag  and resistance of trying to go it alone  and quickly gets back into formation to take  advantage of the lifting power of the bird in front....

Freedom of Speech

"DE LIMA: FREEDOM OF SPEECH NOT LICENSE TO RUIN CREDIBILITY" (sic).  I could not agree more!  I would just like to understand though whether this statement is really unadulterated or is it just another attempt at bending “morality” where it is convenient. I seem to remember not long ago the same senator effectively smearing the credibility of some of her colleagues in the government and its institutions, all the while exercising her constitutional right to “Freedom of Speech.”  I have heard claims coming from this Senator about how sure she is that President Duterte is behind DDS and EJK.  In fact, she is so sure that she’s even gone to great lengths of humoring international media with interviews and clamoring for international intervention on our domestic affairs, including imposing sanctions on our nation, all because of the ongoing “government-inspired” EJK.  I have also heard her say, and she is definitely sure about it too, about DOJ fabricating lies...

History: The Battle of Bataan

These are the writings on the wall of the Dambana ng Kagitingan (Shrine of Valor) in Mt. Samat, Pilar, Bataan - a monument built to remember and to celebrate the resilience of the human spirit.  Reading through the inscriptions sent chills to my bones.  It makes me proud to be a Filipino, even more so being a Bataenyo (a native of Bataan).  Let this be a reminder to us all, of the valor and the glory of our roots.  We shall not forget...  "Our mission is to remember."   Photo by Irwin Richard Dizon The Battle of Bataan On this ground gallant men chose to die than surrender. From all corners of the Philippines they came, youthful and brave, to make their last stand in Bataan against an implacable enemy which had marched through Asia. What transpired was a ferocious combat between raw, ill-equipped recruits against seasoned, well-armed troops.

#WeArePhilippines

Recently, we have seen a lot of political disorder in the Philippines that has literally divided, and continue to divide, our nation.  Majority of the government officials, who the Filipino people have chosen to represent their best interests, have misused the trust and the authority that the people have given them to further their individual (and that of their party’s) political interest.  This observation is not only directed at one person or one political party.  Parties and individuals have been hell-bent on criticizing anyone who sits on the other side of the fence.  Privilege speeches and press conferences, under the guise of “at the interest of the Filipino people” have been used to either discredit another official or to defend a “personal attack” directed at them by a member of the opposition.  This has fueled the nation’s divide and has distracted the Filipino people’s sight away from the positive things that currently unfolds right in front of us. O...

Lesson from the Hedgehogs

It was the coldest winter ever. Many animals died because of the cold. The hedgehogs, realizing the situation, decided to group together to keep warm. This way they covered and protected themselves; but the quills of each one wounded their closest companions. After awhile, they decided to distance themselves one from the other and they began to die, alone and frozen. So they had to make a choice: either accept the quills of their companions or disappear from the Earth. Wisely, they decided to go back to being together. They learned to live with the little wounds caused by the close relationship with their companions in order to receive the heat that came from the others. This way they were able to survive.

Lost Wallet, A Great Love Story

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years. The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline–1924. The letter had been written almost 60 years ago. It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a “Dear John” letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him anymore because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him. It was signed, Hannah. It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. May...

Welcome to My Standpoint...

I am a Civil/Structural Engineer by education, a Quality Professional by profession, a wannabe-but-chose-not-to-be doctor, a frustrated programmer, a tech enthusiast, an avid sportsman, a hater, a lover, a friend, a son, a brother, a husband and a father. I love music, but music never really liked me -- and so does dancing. I love to write (at least I'd like to think so) but never found the time. I love to draw/paint, but again the busy everyday life took that away from me. The only things that stuck with me throughout the busy-ness of life would be my passion for Tennis, Judo, computers and just about anything that gets plugged in to an electric socket or gets powered by batteries (conventional or solar) -- children's toys included. :) Having said that, I guess I can summarily describe myself as a "Jack of trades, (and hopefully) master of some". I have always believed that knowing a little bit of everything is better than knowing everything about just one thi...

The Problem with Dandelions

A man who took great pride in his lawn found himself with a large crop of dandelions. He tried every method he knew to get rid of them. Still they plagued him. Finally he wrote to the Department of Agriculture. He enumerated all the things he had tried and closed his letter with the question: "What shall I do now?" In due course, the reply came: "We suggest you learn to love them."