Ah, Fala, you stole my heart! I love my fur babies so much, but Fala has a special place. He was Richard’s and my first dog, and he and Cleo came when I really needed some inspiring pets in my life, though I didn’t realize it.
When our younger daughter joined her sister in college, we became empty nesters…for about a minute, then our niece moved in with us for a while and helped us not be so lonely. In September of that year we lost our cat, Fluffy, after we’d loved her for 14 years. That was tough. Then in November of that same year I was diagnosed with breast cancer and had surgery in December. That was a different kind of tough. That’s the backstory to our life with Fala and Cleo. If you want to know more about the cancer, click this link for that story.
One day while our daughters were home for Christmas break, our older daughter met us for lunch after doing some Christmas shopping. Her eyes were shining and she was practically bouncing with excitement. She had met a dog. And a cat. We had never had a dog in our little family, although I had owned a dog for most of my childhood. It was hard for my husband to think about committing to a dog, because it had been so hard on him to lose two dogs during his growing-up years. But our daughter had been to the Pet Adoption Center in our local mall and fell in love. She told us all about this black Scottie and his puppy dog eyes, and how adorable he was.
Richard heard “black Scottie,” and my history-teacher husband looked off into the distance and said, “Fala.” If you don’t know that name, it was the name of President Franklin Roosevelt’s Scottish terrier, and I did know it. I’ve learned an astronomical amount of history from Richard over 40 years, by osmosis I think. Fun fact: Fala is the only dog to be featured on a president’s statue. Well, the minute Richard said “Fala,” I thought with wonder, We’re getting a dog! And his name shall be Fala. Then our daughter told us about a cat she was also taken with. Even though we had rescued Fluffy, Richard isn’t really a cat person. So I couldn’t have predicted what happened.
I don’t know if it was the empty nest, or my cancer, or what, but we must have caught my hubby at a weak moment. We all went to the mall and met Fala. He saw us and tried to jump right into our arms from his pen. He was the cutest dog, with personality just springing out of him, and it was like he knew we were his people. He wasn’t exactly a Scottie, although he might have some Scottish blood for all I know. But it was love at first sight, so it didn’t matter that he wasn’t the same breed as FDR’s Fala. They told us his name was Scooby, but that just didn’t fit. In fact, when Richard re-registered the dog after he’d been with us for a week or so, he said to him, “Scooby,” and there was no reaction. Then he said, “Fala,” and Fala looked up at him, bright eyed and bushy tailed. True story. Clearly his name was Fala, and he knew it.
Our daughter also introduced us to a beautiful tabby cat at the Adoption Center, and we decided he must also become a Bullough. We put them in a room together and they were fine, so we knew they would get along okay. We adopted/rescued them both, and they have blessed us beyond belief. Since we had named Fala after a presidential dog, our girls researched presidential cats, because that’s what you do when your dad is a history teacher. The two they came up with were Bill Clinton’s “Socks” (who “wrote his own” book) and Ronald Reagan’s cat “Cleo.” Well, our cat didn’t have white feet, which you really must have to be called “Socks,” so our little man became Cleo. I’ll save his story for another time.
Fala rocking his Ewok look
Fala is a laid-back dog, which fits our personalities just perfectly. He’s one of those dogs that doesn’t understand playing. If you throw a frisbee or a ball for him to fetch, he just looks at it and then looks at you, as if to say, “Why did you do that? now you’re just going to have to go get it.” And he’s right, that’s what we have to do. He literally doesn’t play with any toys, although I did see him pick up Watson’s rope once (you can read about our blind dog Watson here), as if to check out what the appeal was. Now if it’s a bone or anything delicious by his standards, Fala is all over it. And he loves to snuggle and be petted. He loves meeting new people and dogs, but then usually leaves them in peace after greeting them warmly. He’s an observer of life. But he doesn’t fetch.
He does like to bark, although since he’s getting hard of hearing, he relies on Watson to let him know when he needs to bark. Which often leads to a comedy of errors, because when Watson hears a doorbell or door knocking on the tv, or any sound he doesn’t recognize (or one he thinks is the cat), he barks, which sets Fala off and we have dueling barkers until we can convince them everything is fine. The one thing Fala won’t bark for, unfortunately, is when he needs to go out—though he will bark to come in if you forget to open the door for him in a timely manner. He basically goes to the back door and stands (or just sits there) when he needs access to the great outdoors. We have to be aware of when he is up and on the move in that direction, because he is an old dog and can’t wait all day. If Watson takes note of him standing there, Watson will bark for him because the door is out of sight from our living room, and that has saved many an accident. In fact, Watson has come all the way to the other side of the house to find us to let us know Fala needs to go out. If we leave the back door unlatched or a little ajar, all 3 of our boys can open the door and come back in. But Fala didn’t know that until Watson showed him it could be done when he joined us. Fala opens the door with his head, while Watson opens it with his paw, but Fala still didn’t do it at all until he saw Watson open the door and swagger in. Apparently old dogs CAN learn new tricks!
Watson has taught Fala to play, but he plays mostly from a lying-down position. Whether he’s being sensitive to Watson’s needs or just being lazy, we don’t really know. But it sure is cute to watch. It’s so gentle it’s almost like Fala plays in slow motion while Watson prances around him.
Fala pretty much ignores Cleo most of the time, but Cleo loves him. Cleo would love to snuggle with Fala, but Fala needs his own space. They are buds, but not cuddle buddies. Fala is an old man now, with his black coat silvering and his muzzle turning white. He was either 4 or 7 when we rescued him, according to the Adoption Center, who had conflicting records. That means he is anywhere from 14 to 17 years old as I write this. But he still has a spring in his step most of the time, runs occasionally on our walks (which he loves, as any dog does), and can still stand up on his haunches.
This was taken right after a howling session.
My husband also taught him to howl (trust me, you do NOT want to know what that sounds like), but Fala really doesn’t enjoy howling (nor do I enjoy hearing my husband howl!) Fala resists it until it just seems to be pulled out of him against his will, summoning up some primeval ancestral howler from deep within. Then he looks at my husband accusingly as if to ask why he makes him lose his cool like that. I have the pictures to prove it.
I am convinced that Fala will never run away, in spite of the howling (which he pretty much refuses to do anymore, primeval ancestor or no primeval ancestor). Watson is actually more adventurous than Fala is. One time I was out front with Fala and Watson and thought they had both come back into the house with me. About three hours later I asked Richard if he had seen Fala lately. He hadn’t, so we scoured the house, looking in all his hiding places. Then I opened the front door and there he was, sitting patiently on the front porch watching the door. I am totally convinced he had stayed there the whole time. I felt so bad about leaving him out! Now that would have been a fine occasion for him to have barked, but he didn’t. I also have not left him out front again—I always check to make sure he’s back in before I shut the door.
Now that Fala is older, we tease that we have an “alert dog.” He doesn’t always get up and run to the door to bark when the doorbell rings anymore—half the time he stays across the room and barks from his relaxed, comfy position, as if to say, “Alert, alert, someone’s at the door! People! You need to do something about that!” Lately, though, he is having some problems immediately recognizing the people he knows, occasionally even barking at Richard or me when we come in and are silhouetted in the doorway, because he has cataracts and can’t see as well as he used to. So he barks to alert us…that we have come into the house.
I believe Fala is very thankful to be in a loving home. And he is so well loved here! We don’t know his background except that the person who gave him up had 4 dogs and said one of them was a biter, so gave them all up. Fala is not a biter. But we know his life wasn’t wonderful because when we first got him, he barked ferociously at any male who came in wearing a baseball cap, and he was afraid of rolled-up newspapers. That breaks my heart.
Fala is a fantastic senior dog and a fun and faithful companion. My daughter recently sent me a comic strip that showed a man kneeling at a headstone with his dog’s name on it in the first panel, followed by the man getting into a time machine that looked suspiciously like the Tardis from Doctor Who. He went back in time 12 years and greeted his puppy, saying “we’ve got 12 years!” This is repeated again and again. The man ages and his hair is gray in the last panel as he greets his still-young dog once again with “we’ve got 12 years!” I’ll just leave that here. My eyes seem to be leaking.
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