David
Heiller
It finally dawned on me on Monday, and a chill went up my
cliche-filled spine. This dog is too darn smart.
I’m referring to our Australian Shepherd, McKenzie. We got
her a month ago from Kathy Horvath.
 |
| MacKenzie |
Kathy is
the biggest animal lover this side of Cassanova. She takes in homeless animals.
McKenzie had been given to her because she kept running away from her home in
Duluth (McKenzie did, not Kathy). The dog had learned how to open the door,
and couldn’t resist the sound of children playing down the street.
Kathy and
a group called Aussie Rescue in turn gave her to us. It was pretty much love at
first sight, even for me. I didn’t want another dog. We already had one, a
six-year-old flugel-hound named Ida.
But the other three family members begged pretty
shamelessly. “Let’s just try it, and if she doesn’t work out, we can take her
back,” Cindy said. Yeah right.
McKenzie is hard not to like. She catches Frisbees with
spectacular leaps. When we play catch with the football or baseball, she runs
back and forth, hoping someone drops the ball so she can chase it. She carries
a rubber ball through the house, chewing on it to make it squeak and hoping we’ll
give it a toss. When we don’t, she bounces it on the floor herself like a
basketball player.
She chases almost anything. Any chipmunk or rabbit or bird
in our yard had better move fast when McKenzie is around. Three steps and she’s
in a dead-run.
 |
| David with Ida and MacKenzie |
If you
shine a flashlight on the ground, she even chases the light. We tried it in the
house, then we noticed that she bit holes in the linoleum floor. The only thing
she doesn’t chase is cars, which is fine with us.
When you open the car door, she hops in and sits in the
front seat, then looks at you with an expectant smile. “Where are we off to
now?” she seems to ask.
At night, she lays in bed with us, until I kick her off.
Cindy won’t kick her off. If I get up in the middle of the night to
use the bathroom, she’ll be lying in my spot when I come back (McKenzie will,
not Cindy). In the morning, I’ll find her cuddled up by Cindy. Then she’ll lay
her head over Cindy and look at me and smile.
When we go outside toward the garden or the woods,
McKenzie will take off ahead of us in a confident trot, as if she knows where
we are going, and by George she’s going to show us the way.
She’s always happy. Her fur is silky. You can’t stop
petting her.
A change occurred
Last week
we started debating whether to take McKenzie on a trip to see my mother in
Brownsville. I said no, and the others said yes, but we needed a unanimous vote
for that, so McKenzie was going to stay home.
 |
| Malika showing a sick MacKenzie love and support. |
That’s
when a change came over McKenzie. When we came home from Sunday school on Oct.
16, she was laying in a window well. At first I thought she was trying to stay
out of the rain. But she wouldn’t come when we called her.
Then she limped toward us, favoring her right front leg.
Later that afternoon, she was favoring her left rear leg. By Sunday night, she
could barely get up. She staggered when she walked, like she couldn’t keep her
balance.
She
wouldn’t sleep with us. She couldn’t jump on the bed. Our happy dog was now a
sad dog. It was almost like she was depressed. She would barely eat. We worried
about her all night.
On Monday morning we took her to the veterinarian. She had
a fever of 104, two degrees above normal. The symptoms of lameness, lethargy,
loss of appetite, and depression all pointed in one direction, and she was
diagnosed with Lyme Disease.
McKenzie was given tetracycline to take three times a day.
Cindy gave her the first one, and informed me that McKenzie WAS going to go to
Brownsville with us. I had to agree.
And that’s when McKenzie’s miraculous recovery began. She
perked up before the pill had even dissolved in her stomach. She went to work
with us Monday and paraded from desk to desk. She smiled when people petted her silky fur.
She “buried” a bone that Hazel gave her between my spare shoes in my office.
She slept with us Monday night, and played football with us Tuesday morning
before the school bus came.
It may be
the first time in modern history that a dog has faked Lyme Disease in order to
take a trip. Like I said, this dog is too darn smart.
She’ll be editing this paper before long, although some
people think that doesn’t take a lot of brains. But that’s another story.
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