Harvey
By Joe Rector
Amy and I recently added a member to our household. Harvey came to live with us at the end of September. Circumstances dictated that we take him in. Now, the last thing in this world we wanted was another pet, but God has a mystifying way of giving us what we don’t want to see how we handle it.
This mutt of a dog is a rescue. His name comes from the hurricane in Houston that displaced him. As a pup, he was nothing but “skin and bones.” Our son Dallas was convinced to take Harvey in by a girl he was dating at the time. The girl is long gone, but ol’ Harvey is still around. In no time at all, the canine was pot-bellied and supremely happy.
Dallas and Harvey had a routine. Because he worked at home, Dallas would take occasional breaks. He rounded up the dog, put him in the car, and took a quick spin around the neighborhood. People laughed when the car passed because Harvey sat up straight in the front passenger seat and looked out the front window as the world passed by. If Dallas ran into a store, “Harve the Marve” would sit still and wait for his best buddy’s return. The entire condo development knew both dog and man. Harvey likes people and children, but he was a bit overly protective when new folks came up. He also hated the doorbell. If someone rang it, the pooch went into a barking frenzy that required Dallas to stop working and convince his pet to “shut up!”
We have become Harvey’s family. Luckily, our dog Sadie and Harvey like each other. Still, he has problems with loud noises and new faces. My niece tried to give him a new home. While she was at work, Harvey jumped through a window screen and landed on top of a carport. From there he jumped to the ground without sustaining any injuries and waited for Mindy to return home. On the second day, he managed to escape from the fenced backyard. Mindy brought Harvey back to us with apologies. I don’t blame her; no one can keep a dog that destroys things and finds a new way of escaping each day.
So, Amy and I are now the proud “parents” of two dogs. Both are mid-sized dogs, and each weighs about 55 pounds. We often say that our lives are out of whack because we are living with two toddlers. Harvey and Sadie are older dogs, but when they are together, they find bursts of energy that cause them to bring havoc to the Rector household. If the doorbell rings, they run to the front door as if they think a pizza delivery has arrived. We are lucky to have a huge front porch, screened side porch, back deck, and concrete area below. They regularly patrol the house as they walk or run from one end to the other. Outside, we have a spacious dog lot for them. Most of the time these two hellions lie in the sun or find a shady place to just wait for one of us to let them back in.
The barking-oh Lord- is the real killer. Sadie has an intimidating bark that sounds as if she is ready to attack. Harvey’s bark is higher pitched and ear-piercing. When one starts, the other joins in, and the noise is as loud as a UT vs. Alabama ball game crowd. In the dog lot, Harvey barks without stopping. The neighbors probably dread the sound of the gate closing.
Bedtime is a real show. Sadie is used to hitting the hay at about 9:00 p.m. She begins to squirm and then voices her demand through that bark. Her herding instinct kicks in as she wraps her jaws gently around my wrist. Harvey just runs to our bed and waits for his treat. Both gobble up the reward. Sadie lies down and falls asleep; Harvey returns to the living room where he sits or sleeps beside me until I wobble to the bed about 1:00 a.m. He likes to spoon, so I wind up with just enough room to lie on my side and sweat from his closeness.
I wish Harvey could have found a different forever home, but he seems to have settled into ours. He’s dealt with enough trauma, so I suppose “marvelous Harvey” will be here for the rest of his days. I love him because he’s a good dog and belonged to our son. Life has thrown us another curve ball with which we’ll deal. The lesson is to never make too many future plans.