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April Worms and Puppy Dog Tales
By Deborah Taylor-Hollis
I love early spring when the rains come in soft and moist filling up the leaf-filled gutters. My neighbors often find me out there on the curb after a good rain, on my hands and knees, pawing away the top leaves to the moist dirt just below. I'm harvesting the worms.
My son loves to help me harvest worms after a good rain when they gather in the gutters with the runoff. We pull the big thick juicy ones up, making piles like tiny snake pits on the sidewalk next to us. The thousands of earthworms make our garden into a living, growing place with some of the most tilled, aerated soil around. And we get all our worms fresh.
My son asked me once why we go out and collect all our earthworms after the rains. He was fascinated when I told him about the earthworm life cycle: the way the worm eggs evaporate up into the moist clouds when water rises; are carried on the winds from the Central Valley; and then rain down on us here to hatch the moment they land in the "beds" of leaves by the side of the roads.
Worms haven't been the only animals in our lives as of late. Right after the last big rain and our last worm harvest of the spring, a friend came to visit from Chico with her two sons and a puppy they had inadvertently (and temporarily) taken in.
There was supposed to be a home here for the 3-month-old shepherd mix, but when they got here the home had evaporated. My friend could only stay for the day, but when she was ready to take both boys and the hapless pup back home, her 17-year-old son and the dog had taken off. The teenager lost track of the time and was out with friends still trying to find the puppy a home, even as his mom was going nuts driving all over looking for him.
The three-hour trip and her 9-year-old's school needs precluded a stay overnight while waiting for her elder son. Eventually, the hour grew late and she had to head for home, knowing he had friends he would stay with. He called her the next day and she wired down bus fare home.
This story would have been a no-brainer, except for one thing. Greyhound bus lines no longer allow animals on board, and the boy wouldn't abandon the puppy to an uncertain fate. He wouldn't leave town until we found the dog a home. And we couldn't.
This conundrum went on for two full days while he bummed around with his friends and his mother worried her brains out about her kid on the streets with a dog.
When I called the bus line, I got the same story as everyone else, that no animals were allowed. Three people said this to me in varying languages as I went up the chain of command at Greyhound. And then a supervisor gave me the "magic bullet," the solution I was looking for.
"We ONLY allow service animals on board," she said, and my devious little brain immediately replied, "Well of COURSE we KNOW that. All I wanted to know was what kind of carrier you require for a hearing-impaired assistant dog-in-training," and then got off the line quick. We had two hours before the next bus left for Chico, and I had some fast typing to do.
I'm sure there are laws against impersonating police, fire, doctors and, of course, lawyers. But I doubt if anyone would hate us for my next move. Knowing that most people are familiar with seeing-eye dogs for the blind, but few are even aware of hearing dogs for the deaf, I created the "Hearing Ear Agency," a nonprofit group that trains stray animals to become service pets.
I typed up a phony letterhead complete with mission statement, training headquarters address and publicity outline. I then gave the letter to my errant young friend, and spent the next hour grilling him on how to handle any challenges as he took the puppy on the bus and headed for home. I made sure the words "service animal" were emblazoned in his brain, and went over just enough detail for him to be able to bluff his way past any driver who might question him. With the dog in a cardboard carrier and $5 in his pocket for emergencies, he stepped aboard the San Jose bus. He arrived home that night around 11 p.m., safe and sound with one tired puppy dog.
Happy April Fools week to all of you worm harvesters, as well as to the bus drivers of America.
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Willow Glen, California Since 1992
