The Love Story of Dagwood & Allie Mae
Fall, 2001

I guess it's been close to six years now since I first acquired Allie Mae.  And even though it's been that long, I still remember the very day she arrived--along with her shy, mangy, malnourished mother and her two sickly, emaciated sisters.  It seems that they were in somewhat of an abusive situation prior to their acceptance here; the unsympathetic woman that had them didn't feel it was necessary to feed and water the chained mother dog and her pups on a regular basis.  So, rather than us "turn her in" to the proper authorities for possible charges of animal abuse, she let one of The Trixie Foundation's board of director members bring them here.  Weren't the dogs lucky . . .

And, I also remember the day that we got Dagwood--right at about five years ago.  It seems that he too was another abuse case.  In his particular situation, though, he had evidently been beaten and treated harshly by humans while still a small, defenseless puppy; he was afraid to let a person even touch, let alone try to pet him.  As a result of this, he was destined to be "put down" at the animal shelter because he was "unadoptable".  When a woman who had a friend that worked at the shelter informed us of his imminent, doomed destiny--I agreed to take him; everyone deserves the opportunity to be happy and loved at least once in their life . . .

Finally, thrown together by fate, Dagwood and Allie Mae became the very best of friends.  In fact, they practically "grew up" together.  They ran and played, they rolled in the grass and they wrestled.  Day in, day out--they enjoyed each other's company.  Everything was going good until Dagwood and Allie Mae discovered a weakened and escapable portion of the old, outdated perimeter "cattle" fence that we had at the time; together, they "made a run for it."  Although that particular fence has long since been replaced by a brand new and secure chain link version (which was completed in its entirety just one year ago this month)--from that point on, we couldn't keep Allie Mae from escaping--no matter how many times we brought her back inside--and believe me, we tried everything.  So, this went on for the next two years.  Luckily, all of the other dogs were content to stay within their large and enclosed compound areas and not try to escape into the surrounding woods as Dagwood and Allie Mae had done; thank God for that.

Therefore, from the time I realized that the old fence was no longer "escape proof"--we began to work toward the building of a new, more updated and secure containment system to better protect all of the animals.  And while we were constantly working toward this new objective--we would see Dagwood and Allie Mae stretched out side-by-side on the leaf-covered ground of the hillside facing the compound--soaking up the warm rays of the morning sun.  Or, we'd see them casually sauntering through the woods--sniffing and digging in the dirt under the shaded canopy of the forested woods surrounding the compound.  No matter what, no matter where, they were always together; they were inseparable.  It was obvious to everyone who saw them that they had an emotional attachment to each other; I guess you could say, "they were in love."  Oftentimes, I would go outside the sanctuary compound and open up cans of dog food or packages of lunchmeat for them; they really liked the extra, special attention.  Too, sometimes I would even love and pet on Allie Mae--all the time trying to win Dagwood's trust.  However, no matter how much I tried--and no matter how many treats I gave them both--still, I could not get Dagwood to allow me to touch him, nor trust me.

On Friday, October 27, 2000, we finally completed the erection of all new fencing--especially the area where Dagwood and Allie Mae were to be placed.  We knew that we had to hurry and "finish up" because in just a couple more week's time--"modern gun" deer season began.  And, although we have never had any problem with hunters in the past--The Trixie Foundation has built a "mountain of enemies" over the years for "standing its ground" on behalf of animals.  Anyway, after completing the fencing that day--we tried to corral and coax Dagwood and Allie Mae into the area that was to be their new home; I remember even throwing them a whole ham shoulder to try to get them inside the five-foot-high, fenced, electrified compound; nothing worked.  Although the three of us working that day could have walked right up to Allie Mae, picked her up and physically placed her inside--I told the work hands "no"--just let her stay outside with her constant companion and mate, Dagwood; at least until we could catch both of them together, at the same time, in the next couple of days.  So, the dogs simply turned around and lazily headed toward the old, deserted and rickety barn, located  just a few hundred feet down the road from The Trixie Foundation compound--to snooze and relax after "stuffing themselves" with meat and other "canine" goodies.

Early the next morning at daybreak, I awoke to a loud "bang" of a single gunshot; it seemed as if it was only a few feet outside the compound fence--maybe, from down around the barn?  After hurriedly dressing, I went to investigate; no sign of anyone--including Dagwood and Allie Mae.  I thought to myself--at least they're safe.  A couple of worried days later, I awakened to find Dagwood lying outside the compound as usual--but mysteriously minus Allie Mae, his beloved mate of several years.  I'm sorry to say, but, that sweet and gentle red-haired dog has never been seen by anyone since--and I've paid people to walk and search the hills, looking for her bloodied, contorted body.  My guess is that she probably walked right up to the person who shot her, expecting to be petted and doted on--and instead, ran away in pain, gun shot, to die in agony somewhere secluded--with Dagwood lying protectively by her side.  Someone that didn't like me, nor appreciate nor understand the work that I do on behalf of all unwanted animals, no doubt did their very best "to send me a message"; I've got news for them--it didn't work.  I'll never stop!

Early the other day I looked out the window to see Dagwood (who has been inside the compound with all the other dogs for almost a year now--thanks to a rented "tranquilizer dart gun") curiously gazing and staring at the same exact gate where I last saw and fed him and Allie Mae together that Friday afternoon long ago.  As I watched him more closely, I saw his tail begin to slowly wag from side to side--and, I know that I saw a grin beginning to form on his puzzled face and tilted head.  And as I continued to watch, I too began to visualize and see through the frosty morning mist, the ghostly form of a sweet and gentle red-haired dog lying just outside the compound gate--slowly wagging her tail back and forth--contentedly, serenely gazing upon the one that she loved and missed so in heaven, her faithful, beloved mate forever, Dagwood . . .

Randy Skaggs, Founder

UPDATE:  "Nose To Nose, Tails Just A Wagging . . ."