My Little Hero
In May of 2008, we had a little visitor at our farm; a pure white dog who hid out in our hayfield. He would wander into the yard to eat, but only if we left the food outside and came into the house. He was very frightened. After nearly a week of this my neighbor and I coaxed him onto the deck where he would allow us to pet him at arms length.
Gradually, he learned to trust us and spent a good bit of time getting the attention he seemed to need. I named him Casper.
We got some stormy weather, so I brought him onto our enclosed porch. He looked around, climbed up on a padded rocker, laid his head down and nicely went to sleep. My husband and I went to bed.
Sometime around midnight, the dog started to whimper. Fearing he would wake my husband, I went downstairs to check on him. He was looking out at the barn and pacing. I noticed a light on in the barn and thought my husband had forgotten to turn it off. I petted Casper and got him settled, then went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The dog became agitated again. This time, I saw a person leaving the barn. Long story, short, someone had set a fire under some bales of hay. My husband kept the fire down with a garden hose until the fire trucks arrived. There was minimal damage, but I shudder to think what would have happened if Casper had not alerted me to the danger.
Of course, he still lives with us, and he will be a permanent fixture in our home and in our hearts. I have never owned a dog who could entertain us. He is such a clown. My sister-in-law says he is just like a little kid in a dog costume. What? He is a little kid.