Meadford, Ont., 1892
The odd-looking dog gazed up at the unfamiliar lady who was standing inside the front door and carefully removing her long gloves. She seemed very nice, but perhaps she would think him ugly, as so many people did.
“You must be Joe,” Margaret said, a friendly smile on her face. “I’ve heard so much about you!” And to the dog’s delight, she bent down and scratched him on the back of his head, in his most favourite, hardto- reach spot. Heavenly! She didn’t seem to mind his clipped ears and his missing tail one bit.
“I see you’ve met Beautiful Joe,” her brother said as he set down her suitcases. “What do you think?”
The woman smiled. “He’s every bit as nice as your letter said he would be. But he’s not quite what I expected when you mentioned his name. Why did you call him that?””
“It was my idea, really,” said another young woman who came into the room carrying a tray of tea things. “The poor fellow had been through so much, and we could just tell he was embarrassed about how he looked.”
Robert smiled. “You do imagine things, Louise. I probably would have just called him Joe.”
“Oh, but he is beautiful!” Margaret cried. “You can see it in his eyes, how much he loves your family, Louise.”
“What I will never understand is how that man could be so cruel to cut off his ears and tail like that,” Louise said. “Animals are ours to care for, not to harm.”
“Lucky for Joe that your father saw what was happening,” Margaret replied. “I bet he gave that man a thrashing he’ll never forget!”
Louise smiled at Beautiful Joe. “I just hope when the judge scolded that farmer for his cruelty to Joe and his other animals that it sank in, but with someone like that, you never know. The inspectors who went out to his farm were shocked at the state of the horses and cows, too, but they went to better homes.”
“Even if Joe could have chosen for himself, he couldn’t possibly have picked a nicer home than yours,” Margaret said. Turning to her brother, she added with a saucy grin, “I think that also means they’ll treat you well after you marry Louise, too, Robert. Almost as well as Beautiful Joe!”
The three of them laughed, but the dog didn’t hear a word. He was fast asleep by the fire. Margaret gazed down at the contented dog who had been saved by the Moore family. “Such a story you have to tell, Joe. If only someone could write it for you…”