Loving all animals

Well, its June 19, 1998 and I'm minding my own business hiding in a row of tamarisk trees on a large vacant parcel of ground in the desert of Indio, California. You see, I'm big, I mean really big and I have been told by more than a few, I'm ugly. My folks- sure wish I could remember them - but I’m told one was more or less a labrador and the other was more, than less, a pit bull and one of them had some saint bernard in them. Don't know which was what.

Anyway the story being told about me was that some human got me as a baby and allowed me to grow up on the other end of a rope. At a very early age, at the expense of some pretty ugly, bloody scars, which did not help my compromised appearance, I escaped. I took off like a bat out of hell and found this really beautiful piece of bare ground.

This parcel was right out in the middle of the desert and someone had put in a really, really, pretty lawn. No house, no barn, no paved road, not even an outhouse, but a really pretty lawn surrounded by potted plants and trees. Now we are not talking a big lawn, just a pretty one. Well, being a native of the desert and maybe not so good looking, but smart, I figured where there is lawn, there is water, so I moved in. Soon after the big move, I was apprised of why this lawn was able to survive in this harsh climate; the owners of the land visited often and happen to own a florist shop in town.

Their form of relaxation was to visit this remote location, water the lawn and trees and relax. Well, Cleo, that's the wife of Russ, heard me moving around in the Tamarisk trees and I, trying to hold my ground gave her my biggest growl ever (remember, I'm just a kid) Well it scared the holly pee-cheebers out of her and she wilted to this knee shaking, teeth chattering coward. As a last effort before she fainted, she mumbled "Hey Sweetie" and I turned into a bowl of jelly. Lapping at her, like she was the long awaited bowl of fresh water, we became instant friends.

Well, that was the first day of the next two months of my life. Russ and Cleo, who came often anyway to water their plants, came more often to bring me food and fresh water. They brought a child's plastic swimming pool which they would fill for my drinking water and they brought food - lots of food, but never enough. You see, it was hard to believe, because I was so big - but I was just a growing boy. I was growing and growing and growing. Being in the middle of the desert, the heat became more and more intense.

As mentioned before, Russ owned a Florist Shop and Cleo owned a Beauty Shop, which is as much as telling you, they were really busy people. Not only that, they owned and cared for many, many exotic parrots, plus they had a really nice home in the town of Indio. I bet you are wondering, then why didn't they take me home. Well, they claimed it was because they had this big "Old" dog that I would most likely upset. Now how did they ever know?? OK, so they didn't take me home - they did spend half their waking hours telling everyone about me in an effort to find me a good home. Because of their parrots, they met this one gal in particular who claimed to be an animal lover.

Cleo told her about my plight when they first met and discussed better housing for their parrots. No way, did the lady even act interested in my low cost housing. By this time I had dug a large hole under a pile of wood and Russ would fill the hole with water, which would keep it cooler for hours. So time goes on and it starts reaching 100 degrees and everyone that is older than I, knows that I cannot survive when the temperatures reach 120, plus and they know, it will.

Another month passes and Cleo is pleading with people to try and find someone that wants a big dog, for some reason, the word "Pit Bull" brings images of blood and guts to kind folks that might otherwise, at least, give the idea some consideration. Fortunately, Cleo used non-permanent red dye on the lady mentioned earlier, and she returns again to the beauty shop and again Cleo speaks of me. Cleo said that time was running out and they would soon have to consider taking me to a shelter, which would surely result in me being euthanized. They didn't ask me, but I think that was a crappy idea. Well into my life, enters this crazy broad with the dyed red hair.

She calls Cleo and says she can't sleep thinking about me. Can you believe that -- I'm sleeping in a sand hole, full of water, more commonly known as a mud puddle, under a pile of wood - she's in an air-conditioned bed room, in a comfortable bed and She Can't Sleep?? Only in America! So the next day, Cleo brings her to my abode and introduces us. I'm as polite as I know how to be, which includes rubbing my mud and loose hair all over every inch of her clothes. In an effort to let her know how truly I appreciate her concern, I lick off most of her make-up. I drink the water that Russ runs into my plastic swim pool and give everyone my best shot at looking cute.

The question of the hour is… Where's some food? None is produced – Something's wrong here. I'm too hungry to really care. Between Russ and Cleo's brother, my body is hoisted into the back of a nice clean green Suburban. It's really great because the interior was the same color as my hair, palomino brown I think they call it. The reason I say this is because at the rate I was losing hair; I should be bald by morning. Well everyone wondered if I had ever ridden in a car before and based upon my behavior the "No's" won. I started in the back and prior to reaching our destination some twenty miles away, you would have thought I was going to apply for my driver's permit in the morning. Of course, it could not be in that vehicle, as no self-respecting government official would sit among all that hair. This is when my name was changed - when she screamed, "Get off me you MOOSE!"

So you might say this was the first day of the rest of my life. You would just have to see where I went to believe it... I mean we are talking about me. Every sociably unacceptable thing there is - I am. And here my, unconnected hair and I drive through these big iron gates, onto a cobble stone, turn around driveway, lawns, flowers, pools, waterfalls - aviaries, music. Oh shit, I'm not even two years old and I must be going to heaven That was what I thought until she pulled out a bucket full of soapsuds and the hose and I experienced my first bath.

Behind those gates were the most marvelous toys I had ever seen and I immediately gave each my undivided attention. I first had to pee in the pool and then took a flying leap and did a beautiful belly flop right in the middle. From there I ran and pulled up several flowers so I could see what was on the bottom of them. I was sure the patio chairs wanted a swim, so I threw them all in the pool. As I was chasing around trying to find the entrance to some of the birdcages, Lindi with little or no understanding of the fact that when I was living as a wild dog I would have died had I not eaten birds, she practically had a heart attack. My first “hard” lesson was that I could no longer dine on birds, at least not her parrots. Lots of lessons were learned very quickly, can't eat birds, can't pee in the pool, can't try to get in the house when the doors aren't open and she didn't like my kisses.

The next day I got to meet this really neat animal trainer, Sandy Miller, and I was allowed the opportunity to show them all how smart I was. I amazed them with my brilliance. I showed my appreciation to Lindi by jumping up on her and after she fell down, licking her face. She told Sandy that it felt like being hit by a truck and then dragged through a car wash. So that, among other things, had to go. After I graduated from charm school, I would watch Lindi as she called various shelters to see if they could take me in. Obviously she was not getting the answers she wanted as the next thing she did was take me to the veterinarian where I received several shots and was separated from my family jewels.

So I just stayed with Lindi until it was time for her to drive herself and all her birds to Oregon for the summer. The travel trailer was brought over and, being almost as big as the trailer, she wondered how she could possibly sleep all the birds, herself and little ole me in that tiny trailer. She soon found out that I had learned well and served as protector to them all. Even when the truck that pulled the trailer stalled and she had to go for help, I stood guard over her precious cargo.

When we got to Oregon, everyone was happy, except husband Gino who had left the desert prior to my arrival. Lindi promptly explained that I was to go and live at the farm where her daughter, Lorie, husband Clyde and their two children lived. I went there and liked it a lot, especially taking care of the kids. Once I pulled Billy out of the pond and no one knows if he would have been able to get out without my help. Another time, their roommate Angie was going to the barn and I chased some big wild animal out of the barn before she went in and got hurt. Well Angie ended up getting married to Matt Knight, son of Phil Knight, owner of Nike and when she moved, she took me with her. I now take care of the Knight children and my name is Moose Knight.

Happy ending for a guy that was doomed to die, huh!