Just over 12 years ago, two dogs came into my life.
It all began when a female dog jumped into my late wife’s Honda at a gas station in Burnsville, North Carolina. It was raining hard, and Susan said the dog seemed to know exactly what she needed and wanted. She needed shelter—and likely food—and she wanted it from us.
So we brought another dog into our lives.
Given that she had “adopted” Susan at a Quality Plus gas station, it seemed logical to call her QP, or Qupie.
A quick trip to the vet a few days later brought the news that Qupie was pregnant, which explains why she was wolfing down so much food.
We were good friends with the people who ran the animal shelter, so I called to tell them what was going on and to say that we would keep her until the litter was born. After that, the shelter was agreeable to take all the dogs to find them good homes.
Ah, the best laid plans, right?
Fast forward a few weeks and Qupie went into labor in our dining room in a box filled with old towels and blankets. The first pup came out rather quickly, wrinkled and looking just like his mother.
Then, nothing more.
Hours later I gathered up the box with mom and pup inside and loaded them into the car for a trip to the veterinarian. A quick X-ray showed one other pup inside, and a shot of oxytocin helped bring out wrinkly puppy Number Two.
“We have a baby!” The vet tech said with a smile as she came out to inform us in the waiting room. “It’s another boy!”
After paying the bill we bundled the canine members of our family up and took them home. The two pups looked nothing alike. Number One was black and white like Qupie with a lightning bolt mark down between the eyes. Number Two was solid white and a bundle of wrinkles.
A few days later a friend saw photos of the two new miscreants in our lives and said, “That black-and-white one is a ditto of his mother!”
Ditto. That’s a good name.
One down and one to go. What to name his obviously larger brother?
I pitched the idea of Hoss, after a character on the television show Bonanza from my childhood, played by Dan Blocker.
That lasted a few days before Susan suggested something a bit less brash. How about Brutus?
That was fine with me; Ditto and Brutus, the odd couple of pups.
The shelter found Qupie a fine home after she had weaned da Boyz, but by then we had fallen in love with the pups. Both did initially find homes with friends, but both ended up back with us within days, which we took as a sign.
In essence, we rescued a couple of strays before they became stray, so, pre-strays.
Ditto exhibits the tendencies of a hound-Jack Russell terrier mix; always curious, busy, nosy and loving. As is common, he developed other names, like Dit, Bits, Biddy, Ditty.
Brutus is what I like to jokingly refer to as a miniature white Labrador retriever. His nicknames are Boo, Buddha, and ‘The Love Machine’ due to his disproportionate desire to greet every stranger for ear scratches and back rubs.
Those two went with us to the U.S. Virgin Islands for a couple of years, where they loved to visit the dog-friendly beaches.
Boo would see a family with kids on the beach and would just go off with them, strolling down the beach like he’d always been part of their family. More than once I had to call him back to us, and he often acted like returning was not exactly what he had in mind.
He also loved to sit in the surf.
Today da Boyz are senior citizens. As I write, they sleep. Ditto is snoring, while a sleeping Brutus is known to take on the attributes of a bag of concrete.
They love to go on their walks, and Boo loves to sunbathe. Ditto loves to follow me everywhere.
I wouldn’t want it any other way.
—Jonathan Austin