This is how I went from only EVER going to have two dogs to how I wound up getting three!
It started when I lost Denver, my red+white Basenji, in July of 2005. He passed away unexpectedly and Cheyanne, who was with Denver ever since I got him as a little pup, was whining and looking for him all the time.
Well, after about a week of her doing that and me trying to get over the loss, I decided I needed to get her another brother. I looked through the shelters and called the breeders in the area and couldn't find another basenji young enough that wouldn't cause issues because she's picky about what dogs she will like and what ones she won't. So all the breeders I called said they didn't have any litters due till Jan because the basenji's only go into heat once a year.
So I looked on Petfinder and found this little adorable guy called Domino in Connecticut. He was six months old and so cute! I called and decided to go take a look at him and drove up to Connecticut and let Cheyanne out of the car. Right there I knew that was the brother for her!
He ran up to the car {he was in a foster home on a farm at the time} and sure enough she smelled his butt and they both ran off playing! No snarks or anything -- he was very submissive and she liked that!
So after about a 2-hour meeting, the foster family decided to let me take him. On the way home Domino and Cheyanne slept together in the back seat like they had been together for years! I decided then that he wasn't a “Domino,” he was an “Aspen” so he got a new sister and a new name.
A week later I get a call from one of the breeders I called before I got Aspen to let me know she came upon a Basenji that was eight months old and tri-color. As soon as I told her I had gotten another dog and was all set and as I was about to thank her for calling me, she said she HAD to tell me the WHOLE story of how she was called.
The family that had him was crating him for 14 hours a day and couldn’t deal with the "basenji ways." Well, at the time my ex was telling me how he knew I needed another basenji to prove that what happened to Denver was nothing that I did. Of course I was Happy with Aspen and Cheyanne; they were so good and cute, but I still did have a whole in my heart wondering all the time if there was ANYTHING I could have done to save Denver -- he has Ipsid, a rare health concern in basenjis, and as much as I went to the vet he never caught it. I sued and won and the money went to help families that have dogs that have ipsid and help pay for their treatment.
My heart broke over this little pup, but I had the two dogs and that’s all I ever wanted, right?? I hung up the phone and was sitting here thinking about it. “No, Lori, you have two dogs and everything is fine. No need to mess it up and add a third! Plus, Cheyanne probably won't get along with him anyway!” So my mind was made up -- I wished I could help, but I couldn’t.
As I went to sleep that night with my two, I missed the way the basenji does a circle and another and another and another then finally lays down. I wasn't able to sleep back in my bed yet because that's where I lost Denver in my arms as he slept next to me. Then I was thinking as I lay there, “What if I’m suppose to help this basenji? I tried so hard to save Denver and wasn't able to, but maybe that’s why I got this call. Maybe I was really supposed to help him!”
I had plenty of knowledge of basenji ways and now, their heath issues. I had already had a basenji-proof house and, to be honest, was I ever going to be happy without a basenji? Without their little face licks and there little stubborn side? I went to sleep that night crying, not knowing what I was supposed to do. I woke up the next day, got Denver’s ashes and brought them home. As I was looking for a picture of him to put in the front of the urn, I was still thinking, “What if I am suppose to help this basenji? I wish I just knew if something could tell me I am ....” Well as I am looking through the pictures there was my sign -- there was a picture of Denver and Cheyanne playing at a park and I know some of you are going to think I’m crazy but there in the picture was a tree and if you looked closely, the branches looked like a tri-color dog with pointy ears and a black body with red and white on the face!
I was still mourning for Denver but was that a sign that Denver wanted me to help this dog? I was holding his urn in one hand and in the other I was looking at a picture that if you looked at quickly you would swear that all three of them where in it. Of course I’m mourning at the time and thinking that I’m going crazy, but while I’m looking at this I decided I would call the breeder again.
As I went to get the phone number, the breeder called asked if there was any way I could foster the dog because he needed to get out of his home ASAP. I Believe Denver was sending me a sign to let him go and help another basenji. As I talked to the breeder, I agreed to come meet BJ to see if the dogs could even get along and if so, I could foster him until they could find him a good home.
Again, this pup was in Connecticut, so I packed up the dogs and headed there a few days later. I got to the dog park we decided to meet at but in the back of my head I already had it set that the dogs wouldn’t get along. BJ needed a lot of training -- the couple that had him told me he didn’t listen, he got into everything and he didn’t even know his name.
Later, we were talking about what happened with Denver and I said if I ever got another basenji I would name him Phoenix, rising from the ashes. As we were talking, the dogs were playing surprisingly well - no fights, just chasing each other in the park. When it was time to come in, I called over Cheyanne and Aspen and the couple called for BJ, but he acted like no one was calling him.
I called the dogs again, but this time I called out “Cheyanne, Aspen, Phoenix” and BJ looked over at us and came running right to my leg! Now, if I had any doubts before I didn't at that moment. I told the couple that if I was to take him I won’t foster him -- he’d be going to his forever home.
As we talked for a few more minutes I leashed them all up and sure enough, his name was now Phoenix and he listened to it like he had always had it. I honestly believe Denver was sending me a sign telling me I needed Phoenix. Today, one of Phoenix's favorite spots to sit is right in front of the curio cabinet where I have Denver’s ashes. He just sits there and looks around.
Aspen and Phoenix are only three months apart in age and Cheyanne is three years older than them but they are all one big happy family now. If one is in trouble, hurt or sad they all come together. Cheyanne has the sweetest personality -- she just wants love and to be with you; Aspen is the little ball catcher -- he loves to play; and Phoenix, well, he is the troublemaker, but is just happy to know he is in a family that will love him forever.
I love all my dogs the same and would do anything I could for them, but I have to say Phoenix will always be my healer.