I remember the September day in 2000 when I found Lucky Duck. At 5 years old, he was so shy, he wouldn't come to anyone. He was not used to positive attention and didn't seem to want it. After about 10 minutes of coaching, he slowly approached me, not sure if I could be trusted. I wondered what horrible things could have happened to this poor soul to make him so afraid. It's not natural for a dog to behave this way. He pulled at my heartstrings with those sad, brown eyes and I became his companion forever.
After living alone for many years, acquiring a dog was a big step. I had an apartment in downtown, Cincinnati on 7th street. Not a place for a black lab. So, I moved to Clifton...I searched for the perfect place and found it...a nice yard with woods behind it...and a park down the street. I remember his first day. He was terrified. But he soon realized this was his safe haven. His first night in his castle was spent protecting me when an unwelcome stranger decided to find his way into my apartment. It was the first and last time I have heard such a fierce growl from my bodyguard. He considers it his duty in life to protect me and he had no intentions of taking this job lightly.
I was worried when I first brought him home. He had never been inside a house. But my worries were short lived. His previous owners had kept him chained up outside. Even though he had never been inside, he required no house training. Nor did he chew on anything other than his toys...amazed at the squeaks they made, he would spend hours ever so gently knawling, careful not to tear them with his worn down knubbed canines. To this day, each toy is carefully handled and has a special place in our home, out of harms way, usually under the bed or in a corner.
Our weekend climbing trips to red river gorge were also a pleasant surprise to him. The woods were a wonderful discovery with all of their new smells and sounds. Still, this dog would not venture far from me. He would be exhausted at the end of the day, flopping down next to the campfire and falling into a deep sleep.
Little did I know this was a sign of a problem. A few weeks after acquiring him, I was devastated to find out from his vet that he was in stage 2 of heartworm...a 3 stage disease. Dr.Wood informed me his heart was swollen and gently suggested he be put down. I told him I would call him back and struggled with the decision. I called my mom, who told me I had given this dog the best last weeks of his life and to let it go. Not satisfied, I went to another friend who gave me the same advice. I wanted to save him and needed someone to tell me I wasn't a fool for trying. I found this in my friend, Ray, who simply responded with "It's not Lucky's fault he has heartworm...save him." I called the doctor back and we began a 6 month treatment that resembled chemo. He was not allowed to run or play with his tender heart condition. Finally, that spring, he was released from house arrest. The heartworm was gone. It was like a ton of bricks had been lifted from my shoulders. I had fallen in love with this animal.
It has been 3 years since then and I've watched this 8 year old dog blossom into something special. He is still a bit shy, but has warmed up to a small group of people. Jerry and Wes are his two best buddies. He also has a strange closeness to my mother. At home, he will not go outside on cold winter mornings without sporting a sweater, yet doesn't hesitate to go for a swim in January if we are camping. He loves water...I remember when we were in Moab on a 3 mile hike along a creek. The duck pretty much swam for 3 miles. He also enjoys the doggie park...but tends to fight with aggressive dogs...he will not start a fight, but he will not back down from one neither.
I truly believe there are no mistakes. There is a reason for everyone
we meet in life. It was meant for the duck and I to meet on that fateful
Sunday.
