We are blessed to have such a good natured and patient dog as the Abbinator, aka notorious D-O-G. She was my folks dog. She adored my father and lived for car rides and her chore of feeding the chickens. After he died unexpectedly, she became jobless and housebound. Within 9 months, my mother also died and Abster came to Maine. Her route to Westbrook St. included a seven month stay with friends in Porter, where she was thrust into a pack of three larger dogs, three cats and an invisible fence. I believe the jolts from the fence functioned as electro-shock therapy in her case, as her chronic state of melancholia seemed to abate and she negotiated her living arrangements well, especially in light of the fact she had been living with chain smoking, hard of hearing, routinized senior citizens for the last six year. Her bark sounded more like a smoker's cough and her figure had been compromised by nightly french fry outings. Upon coming to live with us, she met Tyler T-Bone Tiberius Thompson. Most people are leary of Tyler due to his massiveness and his reputation as a "biter without warning". With Abby, he is a pussycat. With Maisie he is a pussycat. With everyone else? Imagine the Jaws theme music playing as he saunters toward you or sits beside you. Then 4 months later, here comes this baby and life has never been the same. A daily dose of doggie Prozac and some Xanax for thunderstorms and everything is good. And everyday is a day filled with hugs, and pats, and kisses and woof-woofs, and scraps of food from the floor and grubby toddler hands. Good girl, Abby.
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