Eleven months ago I met you all, and Ted. And next month it will be one year that he came to live with me, and I wouldn't trade a day of it for anything.
We call him Yogi... for Yogi Bear (and Yogi Berra, for the Yankees fans) and the name seems to suit him, although there at times I don't think he recognizes any name, like when he's watching the squirrels that love to look at him (upside down) from the small oak tree 10 feet from our patio. But then on the other paw (er, um hand), he can hear his name called 2 blocks away by any of the dozen+ neighborhood kids. Since school is out, he misses them at the bus stop. One of the little guys actually thought that rubbing Yogi's head before he got on the bus guaranteed him a better test score. Oh well, Youth... whatever works. But our morning ritual still includes 7 o'clock Katie. She's an agency nurse and we see her every day at 7 am and 7 pm, and when he sees her, his whole demeanor changes: his ears flatten so he can be more aerodynamically faster and he parks himself on her foot - this way he knows when she's getting ready to move. And as much as he likes Katie, he LOVES her Land Rover. When her husband drives away, Yogi wants to follow; at night we'll keep Rader company until Katie comes out, and once when Rader started the car, Yogi went for the tires. I mean "teeth on tread" ...we don't know why, but he does the same thing to my pants leg or shoe when his smaller "fans" has to go home. As they walk away and wave, he will block my path as if to say "what did you say to them that made them want to leave?" and then grab (and I really mean grab) my shoe. The kids love it because I can't walk without looking like Igor with this determined Jack attached to my foot.
What can I say, he has a growing fan club and there are no limits; not age, not gender, not nationality, not even height.
He also has some great dog friends. His pal, Bandito (a Sheltie) comes to the field nearly every day and when Bandito gets to run off-leash, Yogi will chase him like he's got a rocket on his back. The 2 will also play tug-of-war with the ball-and-rope toy. When the lady who found him wrote that he liked to play tug-of-war with her puppy, I did not know the operative word was "war" - he won't let go, not even when I free-weight him a few inches off the ground. If there is any way you can get word to her, please tell her "thank you" for finding him so that I could find him. And also thank Lulu and Lovey for their kindnesses when he was with HART.
A year ago it was my head that decided to adopt him. After all, he needed a home, and I needed a Jack. But my heart has caught up, and I realized a couple of months ago, that I would miss him if he wasn't with me. He's family now. And even though he stills growls in his sleep, although not as often, his eyes look kinder now; more bright and sure. I think he likes it here!
Our thanks to all who helped make this possible.
Jan and Yogi (aka Ted E. Bear)
PS. On the 23rd of each month I give him a new bear toy. Some of them still have all of their feet and 1 still has it's head.