Funny Honey: A Gifted Dog

By Elizabeth A. Hann

About the Book
This humorous, heartwarming memoir chronicles the story of Betty and Lou as they set out with positive resolve and absolute determination to find a puppy, raise it with great love in their hearts, train it to the best of their abilities, and have the dog of their dreams. The story begins with the events that brought them to purchase Honey as a puppy in the first place. The story describes the comical events, the unforeseen mishaps and the outlandish adventures throughout Honey’s lifetime as Fate, Destiny, and Lady Luck have an extraordinary influence on the outcome of Betty and Lou’s original plan.

About the Author
Elizabeth A. Hann lives in New England with her newest rescue dog. She loves to travel, especially to the National Parks, and has visited many popular areas along the East Coast from Maine to Florida as well as many locations throughout the South, Midwest and Western states. She spends her free time reading, swimming, and walking. Her favorite pastime is horseback riding along the trails and ocean shores of Narragansett Bay.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Sep 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889255734

Book preview

Chapter 1 – Our Destiny

The dog in the picture was a most impressive dog. The informative caption below her photo was compelling. It read: Ginger, three-year-old female pure bred yellow Labrador Retriever, American Kennel Club registered and ready for adoption. Lou and I could not believe our eyes as we searched the Cranston Animal Shelter’s website and found this listing. We were on the hunt for a new dog at the time. Within minutes we were in the car driving south on Route 95 from Providence, Rhode Island to reach Cranston, Rhode Island. We had to meet Ginger face-to-face. There was no doubt about it.

Once we arrived at the shelter, the very knowledgeable Cranston Animal Control Officer was happy to relay specific bits of information to us about Ginger. Apparently, Ginger had been surrendered to the shelter by her owners who were unable to deal with her high energy level, bad manners, and a few other temperamental issues. Ginger had become somewhat of a squatter at that shelter having been there for six long months. She coexisted there with countless other lost and abandoned pets until we happened upon her. Lou and I came to appreciate the reason why Ginger was still stranded there. It was easy to understand why no one had any inclination to rescue poor Ginger. Why no one else had any desire to snap on a leash and rush home with her. Her description, you see, disclosed that she was not good with other pets, not good with children, and last but not least, not good with men. However, none of that info bothered me and Lou. We asked to see Ginger and once we got the go-ahead, we followed quickly as the animal control officer led us through the kennels.

Lou and I were quite surprised as we took our first peek. Ginger was definitely not the typical dog one might stumble upon in an animal shelter. Ginger, with her time-honored aristocratic features, was quite stunning to behold. She was a bit larger than we expected, but that wasn’t an issue. On that first day as Lou and I were giving her the once-over Ginger was howling in a heart-rending fashion. She sat forlornly in the far corner of her kennel. I found this howling of hers to be a strange phenomenon. I recalled having once read that Labrador Retrievers do not howl, yet this Labrador Retriever sitting in front of us was howling away and very loudly at that. It seemed as if she were pleading to the heavens with her nose pointed upwards as she howled. As if she wanted someone to hear her plea and deliver her from this sorrowful life she was forced to endure. She never approached us at all. She appeared inconsolable and my heart ached for her.

The other dogs at the shelter came charging to the front of their cages barking and wagging their tails as we stopped to take a good look at them. Not Ginger, though. Ginger was in a world of her own. A world filled with loneliness and torment. Lou and I wondered if Ginger was aware or even cared that we were there. She never once bothered to glance our way as she carried on with that sorrowful howling. Poor Ginger, we thought. Such a woeful dog she was with a most uncertain future.

To be quite honest, visiting an animal shelter can be a heart-wrenching ordeal. Therefore, you must be prepared to set your sights on the dog that will come close to fulfilling your expectations. The dog that pops, I guess you could say. The dog that you have dreamed of or perhaps the dog that you feel will mend your broken heart. And finally, the dog that pulls at your heartstrings and allows you the ability to recognize that he or she is the one, the only one for you. One almost feels the need to rescue any dog that seems happy and friendly or even the dog that appears to be the most despondent. In our case, the dog that showed every sign of requiring lots of love and care appealed to our senses. And Ginger had done just that. Yet we had certain reservations about adopting her.

Consequently, we went home, put our heads together and brainstormed over how much of a challenge it might be to take on poor Ginger. Lou and I toyed with the idea of giving her a chance, perhaps for our sake as well as hers. We decided to sleep on it, wait a day and return to the shelter to see how she was doing. Sometimes, we thought, it’s better to think things through rather than make a hasty decision. In the end we decided that Ginger was worth a second look. On our next visit, Ginger was conducting herself in the same manner. She was hunkered down in the far corner of her kennel, even though the door to the outside run was open and bright sunshine was pouring in. Ginger was wistfully howling away exactly as she had the day before.

She reminds me of a girl I went to school with, I said to Lou. Her name was Roxanne. She was a knockout, a blonde bombshell, you know, easy on the eyes. Sort of like this dog Ginger, I continued to say.

Lou walked over, put his arm affectionately around my shoulder, gave me a quick hug, smiled and said very convincingly, Well, I guess we’ll just have to rename her, then, won’t we? Come on, lighten up. We’ll go sign the papers and take her home.

Are you sure? I asked. She’s a really big dog. And much larger than any of the other dogs we had. And rather sad, it seems. Don’t you think she’s sad?

Lou looked at me and said, Oh yeah, I think she’s very sad. But I’m sure we can fix that. Really, if you and I don’t take her home, then who will? She’s been here for six months.

Thus, Ginger’s miserable life of singing the blues would come to an end. Her life in prison would be no more. We signed the papers, packed her in the car and drove home fully prepared for the challenge. Lou and I bailed her out that day and we dedicated ourselves to replacing her sadness with happiness. It didn’t take long to reach the conclusion that Ginger most definitely required some retraining, as well as loving care. In no time at all we discovered that she answered to the words Bad Dog more often than she did to her name, Ginger. Hence, the name change to Roxanne was a great idea. It was a new beginning, if you will, for sad sack Ginger. And, I might add, a complete lifestyle modification from Ginger to Roxanne. She was easy to train, good tempered and soon we gave her the nickname Foxy Roxy. Within a few months Roxy turned out to be the phenomenal dog that she was predestined to be. And life was good again. We had rescued another Poor Lost Soul of a Dog.

However, after five wondrous years with Roxanne without any warning Destiny stole her from us. This tragic turn of events left the two of us alone in a big empty house commiserating over the loss of our best friend. A friend that had cherished us dearly, lavished us with unbounded love, and nurtured our hearts and souls daily. Lou and I were in that indescribable place in time that no one wants to be in, a place full of anguish and despair. I was very saddened and emotionally drained by the loss of Roxanne, but I knew in my heart that time might heal that sense of loss and eventually we would find another dog to bring home. Lou, on the contrary, was completely devastated.

***

We had to find another dog. We just had to. There was no other solution to the problem. The loss of Roxanne was completely unexpected. Neither of us could bear to be in that quiet empty house. We desperately missed Roxanne. We had suffered through this heartbreaking situation before having lost other faithful dogs in the past. And, as in the past, we repeated the same words over and over, No more dogs, that’s it. However, we knew deep down inside that there would, in fact, be another dog. How could we survive without the immeasurable love of a dog? That house was too empty and unwelcoming without the company of a faithful, loving dog.

Therefore, within a few days, Lou and I found ourselves preparing to go out and hunt for another dog. And as Fate would have it, soon into our lives a new dog would come. I don’t believe that Lou or I had any control over what was about to happen. Looking back now I know that just as we came to lose Roxanne we were meant to chance upon this new dog. It surely was our Destiny.

Chapter 2 – The Hunt

So, with great hope in our hearts, we set out on The Hunt. We had plenty of experience with The Hunt. Sometimes The Hunt can last a day or two, as it did when Lou flushed out Shady Lady, another of our adopted dogs. Shady, such an exquisite dog she was. Shady’s overall body confirmation was slender and graceful, and her beautiful, enchanting eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. She was our vagabond rescue dog. That’s what Shady Lady was. Apparently, after giving birth to a litter of puppies, she had been abandoned on the streets of Providence. The Providence dog officer who discovered this Poor Lost Soul of a Dog brought her to the Providence Animal Rescue League rather than taking her to the city pound. She was in very poor health and required lots of looking after and all the wonderful workers at Providence Animal Rescue League were there to help.

Lou discovered her quite inadvertently and most naturally scooped her up and brought her home. Lou sensed right away that she was a wretched soul in need of tender loving care. And that’s exactly what we gave her. Shady Lady was our salvation and lived and loved with us for the next twelve years.

Or The Hunt can last a few weeks, as it did when we came to find Roxanne. Be that as it may, we were on The Hunt once more. However, this time we were not crossing paths with any promising prospects. The countless weeks of visiting animal shelters and scouring the internet for a rescue dog were taking a toll on us, both emotionally and physically. We had certainly run the gamut. After visiting all the shelters in Rhode Island, we trekked across the state line to animal shelters in Massachusetts and Connecticut and then back to the ones in Rhode Island multiple times. To make matters worse, we were spending hours searching the internet and were having no luck there, either. Due to the lack of success we were having on The Hunt we began to discuss the possibility of looking for a puppy. But Lou and I would change our minds because we believed that we would have a stroke of luck and encounter a Poor Lost Soul of a Dog very shortly. That dog who needed our love and compassion. That dog we were willing to supply all of our love and compassion to, no holds barred. There were lots of available dogs but maybe we were being too fussy.

Occasionally, the idea of finding a puppy would pop up. Perhaps we were both toying with the puppy idea but didn’t want to be the one who suggested it.

Who knows, I would say to Lou, raising a puppy might be great fun.

His answer was always the same, I’m not entirely sure of that, but if we can’t find a rescue dog soon, we might have to get a puppy or just give up.

The last two dogs in our lives were adult rescue dogs. The first dog Lou and I owned was a puppy. Sheba was just a pup when she arrived in our lives. That wasn’t such a bad experience, we thought. Sheba, our first dog, a pretty Shepard and Lab mix, had been a wonderful pet. Sheba graced our lives for fifteen years. Sheba was by our side throughout all the ups and downs in our lives. In a way, didn’t we rescue her, as well? Sheba might not have survived for long if Lou hadn’t found her for sale on that street corner when she was only about four weeks old. Lou gladly paid that man the $25.00 to purchase her or better still, rescue her from who knows what. Such a tiny puppy she was. Lou brought her home to me in his shirt pocket; that’s how small and weak she was. We had to bottle feed her and nurse her along in order for her to become the good strong dog that she was meant to be.

From then on most of our discussions regarding The Hunt for a new dog were about searching for a puppy. Neither one of us had planned this, to raise a puppy, but from the looks of things it appeared that searching for a puppy was the only shot we had at getting what we really wanted. Our minds were made up. Lou and I agreed. We were hoping to find a yellow Labrador Retriever that was for sure. There’s nothing like having a calm, devoted, loving dog lying around the house or yard. Sheba, Shady, and Roxy had taught us that. Immediately we started combing through the classified ads looking for breeders with puppies. All our family and friends started giving us advice. Some pros and some cons, as it were.

One group of friends, the pros, told us to Just go for it. That’s the spirit. Find a puppy, raise it yourself, and your reward will be pure love and devotion from that dog.

The other group of people, the cons, constantly advised us against the puppy idea. After all, they would say, you two aren’t getting any younger. Don’t you understand how much work it will be to raise a puppy?

The con group did have a point. Lou was already retired from his electrical business, and I was planning to retire in a few more years. We were certainly not what you might call spring chickens. But despite all of that, we contemplated the up sides of the puppy idea. We had a good-sized yard and we lived in a rather nice area with plenty of places to walk and exercise a young dog. That should help us with bringing up a puppy, shouldn’t it?

We, as a couple, weren’t sure what to do. But I knew something had to come to pass pretty soon because Lou was beginning to get permanent red lines on his face from crying over the loss of Roxanne. We need to get past this, I kept thinking. Under the circumstances, Lou and I decided that, yes, why not? A puppy it would be. Therefore, The Hunt ended abruptly. Lou and I moved on with positive resolve and determination to find a puppy, raise it with great love in our hearts, train it to the best of our abilities and have the dog of our dreams. That was our final decision and we vowed to abide by any and all means in order to attain our goals.

Lou and I made that decision without having the slightest notion that we were quite innocently about to tempt Fate. Our Destiny was just waiting to unfold. We soon came to discover that this decision was to be our crowning achievement. However, the end result was far beyond our wildest hopes and dreams.

Chapter 3 – The Search

Once The Hunt concluded, most naturally The Search was set into motion. By the way, I must inform you that The Search is quite different from The Hunt. The Hunt is best described as a laid-back experience in which patience plays a big role. You simply devote a lot of time hunting for the dog you desire, follow your gut instinct and have confidence that sooner or later you’ll flush out the dog you have longed for and set that dog free. However, your resources are very limited if you’re being the least bit fussy. This we knew for sure. The Search also requires a lot of research and special knowledge of the breed of dog that you are selectively seeking.

Once we had narrowed down the breed of dog, in this case the well-known Labrador Retriever, we dove head-on into self-education and research of this type of dog. At the same time, we were aware that there were a few decisions that had to be made. Did we prefer the American type or the English type of Labrador Retriever? And what coat color did we prefer? I might mention that within the breed of Labrador Retrievers there are a few colors to choose from, yellow, black and brown. Furthermore, The Search requires that you show off all the knowledge you have acquired to the breeders you will encounter. After all, you certainly don’t want to appear uninformed or unschooled when it comes to the prized merchandise they have to offer.

Some breeders might not want to sell their valuable puppies to someone who just wants a big old dog to love and care for. They may have great expectations for their puppies. What if these breeders found it more desirable to have their tail wagging whippersnappers pampered and groomed to become show dogs? Or perhaps they might prefer them to be trained as hunting dogs, rescue dogs or service dogs. Who knows what else they might expect of us, we thought to ourselves.

***

Soon enough we agreed that it was time to put all this knowledge to good use and accordingly we ventured forth to test the waters. Lou and I were downright positive that we wanted an English Labrador Retriever. The more patient Labrador Retriever that we imagined were the dogs pictured in antique paintings of the hunter and his dedicated dog or the dogs pictured on the T-Shirts of the proud owners who sat beside these well behaved, intelligent dogs at the veterinarian’s office.

That’s what we wanted. A true English Labrador Retriever, preferably a yellow one. A dog that would be an obedient dog, a well-behaved dog and most of all a dog that would make us proud and love us passionately because we raised this dog from a puppy. Definitely, we agreed, that’s what we wanted.

Thus, feeling adequately prepared we set out with great resolve and dedicated ourselves wholeheartedly to The Search. Now, of course, key words came into play. Good was a key word in The Search. We had to hit upon some good breeders that actually had some good yellow English lab puppies for sale right now. Oh, and lest I forget, naturally, for a good price. Another key word in The Search was honest. We had to establish that these breeders were honest and therefore they would have puppies from honest bloodlines. And of course, these breeders must tell us the honest truth about the dogs they have bred, raised and sold. Good and honest were definitely the key words Lou and I were looking for concerning these breeders. Astonishingly enough we hit upon quite a few good and honest breeders. Unfortunately, for us, though, all their puppies were already promised or sold.

Don’t get discouraged. More puppies will be available soon, these breeders told us. Leave us your name and number and we’ll call you.

How much longer will this take? we kept thinking. We had been at this for too many weeks. Lou and I were feeling very alone in that quiet empty house. Alone and frustrated with this fruitless Search we were on. It appeared as if our options were running out and we began to lose hope. We were wishing for a little help from Lady Luck, but up to this point, she was nowhere to be found.

And then, consequently late one Saturday afternoon, Lou and I kept an appointment with one more set of breeders, even though we were sure it would all be for naught. Their names were Shirley and Joe and much to our surprise they had some puppies that were approaching eight weeks old.

That’s strange, I said to Lou, how is it they have puppies available and no one else does?

I don’t know, he answered, as usual. We’ll go take a look, what can it hurt? At least it will get us out of this house for a while, right?

I finally agreed with his decision. We climbed into the car and headed out to Rehoboth, Massachusetts to meet up with Shirley and Joe. This seemingly short drive took longer than we anticipated. The route to their house required traveling along rural country roads. The drive was very peaceful and relaxing, and we thoroughly enjoyed the views of the many farms and untouched woodlands along the way. Before long we arrived at our destination. As we turned off the main road onto their property I was filled with a sense of nervous apprehension, and I was certain that Lou felt the same way.

Dusk was approaching that cloudy afternoon as we made our way down Shirley and Joe’s winding driveway. I remember how Lou drove ever so slowly around each bend and curve in that long never-ending driveway. Almost as if he expected some wild animal might jump right out in front of us. Then as soon as we rounded the last turn, we came upon a tall chain-link fence and behind that fence we caught sight of a huge Labrador Retriever dog. This burly brute was acting as ferociously as any watchdog ever could. It appeared as though his only desire was to rip us to pieces as he stood there on his hind legs with his front paws gripping the fence.

He was at best a most intimidating dog and his mean antagonistic mannerisms took us quite by surprise. He was barking, growling, and biting at the fence as we approached. His furry coat was a deep yellowish gold with a few specks of dusty white around his shoulders and his ears were trimmed in a dark caramel tone. His amber eyes were glowing in the fading light as he watched us intently. I was bewildered as I watched this powerful creature display every sign that he was as mean as any junkyard dog could ever be. I remember thinking that his behavior was certainly not typical of a Labrador Retriever.

Wow, he’s a bruiser, isn’t he, though? He’s huge, and what a loud vicious bark he has. Kind of scary, don’t you think? I said to Lou as I watched the massive dog.

Lou answered my statement immediately and said, Scary is putting it mildly. That dog looks like he would attack you and devour you in a minute’s time. I don’t like the looks of him. I hope he’s not the father. I wouldn’t want a puppy with those genes. Maybe we would be better off to just turn around and get out of here now before we waste any more time.

I responded to him in a second. I said, No way. We’re not leaving. We didn’t come all this way to turn around and leave. I want to see the puppies at least. Please, calm down, will you?

I wonder what will happen next, I asked myself as Lou parked the car next to a very old but well-preserved farmhouse. I continued to stare at this incredibly aggressive dog in front of us and as I watched, I was captivated by his wild fiery eyes. Then for no obvious reason the dog’s savage behavior ceased, but he continued to bark, and bark loudly, as he nervously padded back and forth behind that fence. In hindsight, I know now that this should have been the first red flag. Another key word had just come in to play: Loud.

As soon as we stepped out of the car, we were immediately greeted by Joe who quelled this very agitated dog’s fierce demeanor by simply waving his hands in the belligerent beast’s direction.

Hi, how are you? I’m Joe. Pleased to meet you, he said as he greeted us. Oh, don’t be alarmed, that’s Boomer. He’s the watchful dad. Please don’t let his barking frighten you. He’s not mean or aggressive at all. He’s just very protective of the puppies.

Joe was shaking his head as he looked down at Boomer and then he turned to us and said, We’re not certain why he barks that loud. None of our other dogs bark like that, only him. My wife and I have concluded that Boomer feels he must make himself known. You know, he wants to be right in the middle of everything. We think he does all that bellowing in order to be the center of attention. I don’t know why. He’s a wonderful dog. He’s just got a bigmouth, is all. Well, anyway, come on inside and meet my wife. We’re glad you could make it.

Joe turned to the woofing dog shook his finger at him and said in a firm voice, Quiet, Boomer, quiet. Boomer, however, continued to bark (loudly, I might add.)

Joe was a rather short, middle-aged man who looked