The Street Dog With Three Names – The House with the Pink Shutters Series


I always knew that the dog would not live a long life.    When he first arrived in the village and started living under cars in the square, it was clear from his condition and half starved frame that he had been on the streets for a while.   Fleas, worms, ticks, mites, tick fever, you name it  he had it.  Yet looking beyond the dirty unkempt coat and sticky out ribs you saw the big paws that were offered to you on meeting and that indicated his puppy status. The loving intelligent eyes, a honey golden white flecked coat, a tail that never gave up wagging even when he was stressed, scared or in pain.    As he arrived at the same time as some builders who were working on the house up the street we thought that he belonged to one of them.  But when they finished and left he stayed and survived on scraps from tourists and some of the more kind hearted villagers.

Asking around to see if he did have an owner we were given a number of conflicting answers.  Oh that’s Manoli, his owner was one of the builders, or that’s Karomella his owner lives in Lekka or he’s owned by a guy with long hair and is a musician who lives up the back of the village but had to suddenly go to Athens.  I can only conclude that they were either as confused as us or it was total bullshit as the fine for dumping dogs is high and they were covering for someone.

Having got nowhere I decided to  it would not hurt to supplement his diet with a regular meal a day whilst promising myself not to get to attached.  Yeah well you can guess how well that went.  It was a gradual thing though.  The neighbours complained about fleas when he came around for his meal, so I bought him a flea collar.  It was clear he had worms so I dewormed him.  The neighbours complained about dog hair, so I regularly brushed him.  He got sick, I gave him antibiotics.  He was bitten in neck by a dog and it went septic,  I called a vet out.  When she arrived the  dog, having never met her before, still wagging his tail but in obvious pain,sat down and gave her his paw.  She treated him and he didn’t cry or try to bite her.  From that moment I knew he would become part of our pack and we had to look after this gentle, trusting, loving animal.  So the street dog with 2 names got his third and final name,  the only name he chose to respond to, Paleoti.

R.I.P.

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