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I didn't choose my first Island Dog. She chose me. There she was on
Christmas morning 1999, all curled up and sleeping on my front porch.
Lolita was a purebred Beauceron and had a tattoo which enabled us to
find her original owners. They had lost her during Hurricane Luis four
years earlier. In the interim, they had a baby and moved to St. Barts.
They no longer had room for her in their hearts or their home.
We kept Lolita with us during our stay and took her to the shelter when
we left. She hated the shelter! She refused to buddy-up with another
dog and she was always looking for a way OUT! When we returned in February
2000, the woman who ran the shelter (which has since closed for lack of
funding) begged us to keep her with us again while we were vacationing.
We happily went to pick her up. She needed us and we enjoyed her company.
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Then back to the shelter she went when we left where we learned her 2nd
adoptive family had come to ask if she might be there. The good news was
they took her home with them. The bad news was she ran away to the beach
daily and would eventually arrive at Club Orient. By the end of March
when we returned again, Lolita was back at the shelter. Of course, we picked her up
and she vacationed with us again.
One morning we were out walking on the beach and we passed this chestnut
brown, typical looking Island Dog. She followed us home. Lolita
eventually befriended her and she decided to stay...uninvited. We named
her Penelope and she always laid on the floor next to the slider just in
case she had to run. Meanwhile, Lolita slept on soft bedding, totally making herself at home.
Never having spoken aloud anything about adopting either dog, 3 days
before we were due to leave, we just looked at each other and one said.
"Ya know, if we take Lolita home with us, we just can't leave Penny behind."
Thus began the start of our hairy Island Dog family.
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