Taylor is a survivor
I wish I could claim my dogs as tax deductions because if I could, I’d have more deductions than the Walton’s. For most of my life, I’ve had a yard full of big dogs, little dogs, cute dogs and ugly dogs. Dogs are the most loving and loyal creatures on the planet and I love them all.

My dog Taylor has a strange and wonderful story. As a puppy, someone threw her out at a roadside dump near where we live.

I pass dogs by the roadside all the time, but something about her caught my eye. Early one morning as I headed to work, I saw her near a pile of garbage. She ran out to the edge of the road and looked me over, before turning and walking back to the pile of trash. It really didn’t register with me until I came home that night, and she was still there. Again, she came to the edge of the road as if looking for her master, and when she saw I was not him, she went back to her station.

I was off the next day and didn't think anymore about her. But the next day when I went to work she was still there and thin as a pencil. I made up my mind to pick her up that evening.

Apparently, she kept waiting for her master, who had left her there to guard the trash. I can almost imagine that she believed in her heart, “he will come back to get me; because he would never leave me here to starve.”
Obviously, she had not had food or water for days, as she sat alone on her vigil. When I stopped to pick her up, she was very cautious. She wagged her tail instinctively because dogs know immediately if you are friend of foe. I slowly scooted close enough to pet her. She was reluctant, but I finally coaxed her into my truck and she's been with us ever since.
A few years ago in August when I went outside to feed the dump-dog, she wasn’t lying on the porch. She usually doesn’t wander that much but she did meander to the barn and around the community every now and then.

When I came home that evening, she was still not there. Both Jilda and I put out an all-points-bulletin, but no one had seen her. The story was the same the next morning and evening.

I had a meeting out of town and would be gone overnight. Jilda and I were both concerned about Taylor’s disappearance. We walked around the community calling for her but still no Taylor.

Jilda’s brother assured us that she would be back when we returned from our trip. We got home late the following evening, and Taylor was still missing. My heart began to sink, as I feared the worse.

The temperatures were already in the nineties when I went out the next morning looking for Taylor. As I slowly walked toward the barn, I heard a pitiful sound coming from the hollow.

I ran down the embankment and when I got to the bottom of the ravine, I saw her back legs and tail sticking out of a hole. Apparently, she wanted rabbit or groundhog for supper became lodged in the hole.

She had been without food or water for four days and she was on the edge of death. I couldn’t free her so I sprinted back to the house and grabbed a shovel to dig her out. I had to carry her home because she was too weak to walk on her own.

We gave her liquids with a feeding syringe and nursed her slowly back to health.

She made a full recovery and is lying at my feet as I write her story. She hasn’t stopped eating since that day. In fact, she is now the size of a small planet. When she moves around the farm, she impacts the tides at the Gulf of Mexico. She’s a survivor and I love her.