I made arrangements to go look at him and meet the people one day.These were people that didn’t deserve to have a dog; especially one like Baron. I found him in neglected condition, chained-up in the back yard. He looked malnourished. He was a cross between a Siberian Husky and a wolf; more gray in color than anything but with beautiful markings. When I approached him (cautiously) he showed every indication of being friendly toward me. I moved in, on his level, extended my one hand and had it licked. Within a few minutes I told the people that I’d take him. He needed care – a lot of care – some good food and companionship…love.My house was on a half-acre lot, part of that was enclosed with chain-link fence; my nearest neighbor was over two hundred yards away. On the way home I stopped to get a large bag of dog food, a nice strong collar (for him) and some other things I’d need to care for him. He was very friendly during the trip, obviously perceptive that I was going to give him all. I had almost memorized some of the poems written for me … but most poignant was the prayer of St. Donwenna. Without realizing, it had become a daily prayer in my life … ‘We beseech thee, comfort lovers whose vision is unclear.’ Friday the house was alive with activity. The household staff scurried around cleaning, cooking, sweeping verandas. Jackson had arrived back at Tanglewood by noon and had been in perpetual motion trying to relieve some of his anxiousness by getting in the middle of everything that everyone else was doing. He was in the kitchen sampling sauces and soups, he inspected the fresh flowers in the foyer , he made sure there wasn’t one stray leaf on the veranda. Finally late afternoon, we heard a car approaching the house. Jackson was the first out the front door, followed by Vonne, then myself. The car slowed to a stop by the front steps leading to the veranda. The driver got out and opened the back door just as Jackson descended the steps. The first thing I saw.
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