The Ridges of Raleigh

Sighhh....I guess we are big dummies or something. He's back. We tried finding him a good home; we put flyers up everywhere, tried talking other people into taking this good boy; for three weeks we tried and finally paid $30 to take him to a reputable animal shelter. The people there tried to get him into a loving home, but because he had been abused, he was so shy, when introduced to propective owners, that he cowered and shook. Maybe they didn't like the way his ears each listen to the beat of different drummers or something. Anyway, we told them to call us when his 'number was up'. They called. Decisions. Actually, there was no decision. He's a good dawg. Soooo, Cappy told me to go on and bring him home. I raced back over with a fistful of another 50 bucks to claim owenership of him. At first Raleigh acted like one of those neglected elderly nursing home residents who, when you first visit them, don't seem to register who you are, and seem slow on the uptake. I got down on my hands and knees and spoke softly into his ear, "Raleigh....Ra-aaaa-liegh, you wanna come home??" Suddenly everybody standing above me said in unison, "Ahhh, there it is...yep...see his tail?" Geepers, I hadn't even been aware of anyone else when they brought him out and I practically fell on him and hugged him. Kind of embarrassed, I stood up and looked at his tail; it was definitely up and slowly wagging. Usually it would be tucked tightly under him. Cappy was waiting at home to meet him, 'babysitting' with SparkyBear and MarkyBear. Cappy had been out on the boat during the whole time I had sought his owners, then took him to the shelter, and hadn't even laid eyes on his new dog. When I paid for him, got him home, Cappy and Raleigh had an immediate 'understanding', as Cappy calls it. This dog, who had been terrified practically the whole time he was with me before, trying to get over whatever trauma had brought him to our neighborhood in the first place, was now 'smiling' and 'hugging' Cappy and following him everywhere, coming whenever Cappy whistled for him.
How did we name him Raleigh in the first place? We had been driving home from NYS, and in awe of the Blue Ridge mountains in Virginia and North Carolina. I was tired of the long drive and just wanted to get where we were going, but the road kept rolling on ahead of us for what seemed like forever. I thought we'd never get to Raleigh, and kept seeing the signs, Raleigh 154 miles, Raleigh 120 miles, and on and on. I hadn't realized we were traveling 'sideways' along the state, the LONG way. I kept muttering,"Raleigh, Raleigh... are we ever going to get past Raleigh??" I guess I had all this on my mind, cuz when we got home and Cappy went back out on the boat, this Rhodesian Ridgeback dog showed up looking for a home and what do we call him? "Raleigh-Rolly". We are still saying, despite everything, that if we find someone who would love him and give him a good home, he could be theirs. I had to laugh yesterday because Cappy's sister said that he's kind of like Cinderella waiting for her prince to rescue her, putting up with two mean 'step-sisters' aka these bratty Bichons who 'yell' at him, snapping and snarling if he tries to play with their toys or get any attention they think they should be getting, instead of him. They thought he was gone and were glad about it, and now, to their aggravation, he is back.
Oh sure, they'll let him have this "Dirty Rotten Kitty" toy, cuz they don't like it, and now it looks as though even this toy doesn't wanna be nice to him or share the bed with pore ol' Raleigh-Rolly.

I happen to know 'Santa Claus' (see current pictures of Cappy), so if you'd like the perfect dog, neutered, gentle, protective, housebroken and loyal, oh, and with one lop-ear, have we got a dawg for you! If not, well, you get the picture.
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