| BEEWOLF's picture coming soon |
BeeWolf's Story
Chapter 1: Somewhere Along the Road: the big life of a little
dog
Chapter 1: Somewhere Along the Road: the big life of a little
dog
Beewolf's life holds an epitaph in memory: "Hold your ground with all your four pounds of might." He
showed that spirit from the moment the kid walked up while I was fueling my motor coach at some
small town somewhere along the road. "Ma'am, mom says I have to get homes for these right away." In
the box were two furry creatures the size of hamsters. "My aunt's Pomeranian got loose and my uncle's
Yorkie is to blame." I took the tiniest, a small golden red creature with bright eyes. Another person took
the other.
He weighed 3 ounces when the veterinarian weighed him and estimated him to be only about 4
weeks old. I fed him with an eyedropper and a formula for orphaned puppies. He wanted life, loved life,
so he thrived, never refusing an ounce of food. He even drank down medicine as though it were some
heavenly nectar, not minding that it tasted bitter or sweet.
As he grew over the weeks, I plugged up all the holes around pipes or outlets in my motor coach,
because he was so tiny he could've slipped into the underbelly of it. Adventurous, he was thrilled with
the world around him, and his lovely sociable nature found my poodle James to be a marvelous cohort
in doggie mischief. As he hit 5 ounces he had found a way to get up onto the sofa. It was a mystery to
me until one day I watched as he yelped up at the poodle, and James dropped his ear over the edge of
the sofa. Without hesitation Beewolf climbed James' curly ear to the top and curled up for warmth.
He got his name because he could snap up a bee so fast the bee had no time to sting or react.
Well, that and the fact I was reading Beowulf in graduate school and thought it an appropriately ironic
name for such a tiny dog. The yard would be covered with bees and dandelions one minute and devoid
of them 5 minutes after he got out there. He loved flowers and bees and James Poodle and food. They
became "foodies" together. I discovered one of their forages when I found that they had climbed the
sofa to the counter where I kept a very full fruit bowl. There were two bites out of each piece of fruit, one
James-sized and one Bee-sized. James even learned to open the coach refrigerator and raid the
vegetable compartment for the lettuce they both loved. James Poodle also snatched towels from the
rack to make them a little bed at night.
The only yorkie in Bee was well-hidden under his true Pomeranian self. Except for a bit more point
to his ear tips, he was golden red, curly tail, and an undercoat that killed my vacuum cleaner several
times over. The slicker brush filled up with enough creamy fur to create another dog. He strutted, proud,
never realizing he would only be 4.6 pounds in his whole lifetime. In his mind he was a very large dog,
the warrior king Beowulf protecting his tribe which consisted of myself, one poodle, and the two little
schnauzers someone had dumped. All adopted him as a tiny annoyance, except for James poodle,
who became best pal all of his life.
Chapter 2: On the road, adventures begin
2008 Donnis Thompson
showed that spirit from the moment the kid walked up while I was fueling my motor coach at some
small town somewhere along the road. "Ma'am, mom says I have to get homes for these right away." In
the box were two furry creatures the size of hamsters. "My aunt's Pomeranian got loose and my uncle's
Yorkie is to blame." I took the tiniest, a small golden red creature with bright eyes. Another person took
the other.
He weighed 3 ounces when the veterinarian weighed him and estimated him to be only about 4
weeks old. I fed him with an eyedropper and a formula for orphaned puppies. He wanted life, loved life,
so he thrived, never refusing an ounce of food. He even drank down medicine as though it were some
heavenly nectar, not minding that it tasted bitter or sweet.
As he grew over the weeks, I plugged up all the holes around pipes or outlets in my motor coach,
because he was so tiny he could've slipped into the underbelly of it. Adventurous, he was thrilled with
the world around him, and his lovely sociable nature found my poodle James to be a marvelous cohort
in doggie mischief. As he hit 5 ounces he had found a way to get up onto the sofa. It was a mystery to
me until one day I watched as he yelped up at the poodle, and James dropped his ear over the edge of
the sofa. Without hesitation Beewolf climbed James' curly ear to the top and curled up for warmth.
He got his name because he could snap up a bee so fast the bee had no time to sting or react.
Well, that and the fact I was reading Beowulf in graduate school and thought it an appropriately ironic
name for such a tiny dog. The yard would be covered with bees and dandelions one minute and devoid
of them 5 minutes after he got out there. He loved flowers and bees and James Poodle and food. They
became "foodies" together. I discovered one of their forages when I found that they had climbed the
sofa to the counter where I kept a very full fruit bowl. There were two bites out of each piece of fruit, one
James-sized and one Bee-sized. James even learned to open the coach refrigerator and raid the
vegetable compartment for the lettuce they both loved. James Poodle also snatched towels from the
rack to make them a little bed at night.
The only yorkie in Bee was well-hidden under his true Pomeranian self. Except for a bit more point
to his ear tips, he was golden red, curly tail, and an undercoat that killed my vacuum cleaner several
times over. The slicker brush filled up with enough creamy fur to create another dog. He strutted, proud,
never realizing he would only be 4.6 pounds in his whole lifetime. In his mind he was a very large dog,
the warrior king Beowulf protecting his tribe which consisted of myself, one poodle, and the two little
schnauzers someone had dumped. All adopted him as a tiny annoyance, except for James poodle,
who became best pal all of his life.
Chapter 2: On the road, adventures begin
2008 Donnis Thompson