The Story of Wiley Boone

This story is from Rohana, who is a good friend to people and animals and a great writer, too.

The picture to the right is Wiley Boone, shortly after she rescued him and gave him a good bath.

Here is Wiley Boone spending his first Christmas in his new forever home.

THE STORY OF WILEY BOONE
He was a scrawny, bedraggled, little terrier-type dog wandering my section of Southeast Seminole Heights (Tampa), which for several years became an abandoned dog site. My friend Susan D. noticed him first and tried to catch him. When that failed, she started leaving food and water for him near a couple of fenced-in dogs that the little guy liked to visit. Every time I tried to get near him, he took off running, amazingly fast for a sickly dog (most probably because I was walking my two big dogs). This went on for a few weeks, and as time progressed, the little dog began to feel somewhat comfortable around us but still wouldn’t come too close.

One day I went down to the “watering hole” to leave food and water for the little guy. He was nearby and watched me. As I was leaving, he sniffed the food and then meandered into the middle of the street and began scratching his bleeding sores, totally oblivious to a school bus lumbering down the street toward him. Not knowing whether the bus driver could see the dog, I decided to pick him up. If he bit me, he bit me, but at least he wouldn’t be squashed under thousands of pounds of bus.

He didn’t bite me; instead, he quivered in my arms as I walked back to my house, talking to him softly. I set him down on my enclosed front porch. He was a mess – patchy, filthy fur; bleeding sores; runny eyes; gnats flying around him; limp in one of the hind legs. I wasn’t sure what to do next. In the backyard were my two dogs, and my 10+ cats were somewhere on my property or in my house or across the street. What was I going to do with this bleeding, sickly dog? What if he had an infectious disease? I got one of my dog crates, set it up on the porch, and let the little dog sniff it. He spent the night in the closed crate and howled. My dogs and cats were very curious about the stranger on the porch so, being a softie, I brought the little guy and his crate in the house so my animals could get used to him. I just prayed that he wasn’t bringing the plague into my domain.

I contacted Lost Angels Animal Rescue in Tampa and they agreed to take him into their adoption program, as long as I could foster him since they were filled up. Under their instructions, I took the little guy (whom I had named Wiley Boone) to their vet to get checked and doctored. A couple of days later he came “home.”

When he realized that he wasn’t going to have to go back to the streets, Wiley began to grow more confident, although when he was sad or scared he would run into his crate to be safe. I always left the door open (except at night) so he could come and go as he pleased. Sometimes he would find a cat sleeping in his crate. He was not amused, but he never hurt the cats. He must have had a loving home at one point because he was crate-trained, leash-savvy, and kind to cats, dogs, and humans.

He loved to play with my dogs, bouncing around them as they tussled with each other on the rug. They, however, viewed Wiley Boone as a pest and never let him join in. So, after awhile, Wiley would get bored and go find a cat to play with (he was the same size as my cats). That didn’t work either because my cats only play with canines on their own terms and Wiley didn’t know the rules. So, what would happen is Wiley would wind up getting himself in trouble and then he would have to spend some alone time in his crate.

When he started healing from his wounds and his fur started filling in, I brought him to Petco under the auspices of Lost Angels to present him for adoption. It didn’t take long. On our third Saturday at Petco, Wiley Boone was adopted by a wonderful single woman, Deborah, and her miniature Schnauzer named Presley. At last contact with Deborah, Presley and Wiley Boone were stuck to each other like glue and he had completely adapted to Deborah’s home and lifestyle. She said he was a fantastic dog.

It’s been a couple of years since Wiley Boone found a new home, but I still miss the little guy. My favorite memory of him is his loud, joyful howl when he heard my car drive up and me open the gate. My dogs would also join in and it made me feel like someone really loved me and cared that I came home. My dogs are always happy to see me, of course, but I do miss that Wiley Boone howl.