PANSY'S AN UNFORGETTABLE POOCH.

Byline: DENNIS McCARTHY 

The staff at Sherman Oaks Veterinarian Group nicknamed the dog Lucky because that's exactly what she was five years ago when she beat the odds. Lucky.

A blind cocker spaniel turning circles in the middle of a busy Tarzana intersection, not knowing which way to go to escape the cars whizzing by.

The motorists swerving and honking their horns couldn't know the dog was blind and lost, but Judy Ross knew something was wrong as she drove by.

The dog wasn't trying to run away from the cars, or chase after them. She just stayed there in one spot, walking around in circles - like she was waiting for someone to come help her.

``I didn't realize she was blind until I got her to the clinic,'' said Ross, an assistant manager there. ``The doctors thought she was 4 or 5 years old, and probably born blind.

``She had no collar on, but you could tell she had been groomed recently. Someone had taken good care of her.''

Ross called me, asking if I'd mention Lucky in my column. Maybe her owner would read it, and come to take her home. She didn't, but a lot of other people called to offer Lucky a home.

I never followed up, never told you what happened to Lucky. Then one day I got an e-mail from a woman in Woodland Hills wanting to thank me for a column I wrote five years ago because it changed her life.

Glenda Shaw was a widow who had lost her beloved 14-year-old dog, Bismarck, a few months earlier. She had a big home, but no one to share it with, no one to love.

Then, in December 2000, she opened the Daily News, and saw the photo of a blind cocker spaniel named Lucky. And she fell in love again.

Judy Ross asked the staff at the clinic to cover for her. She had a few stops to make with Lucky. More than a dozen people had called to offer her a home, but Judy wanted to check them out first.

``By then, we had fallen in love with Lucky, too,'' she said Friday. ``She was our mascot. All of us wanted to find her the best home we could.''

The first stop she made that morning was to a home in Woodland Hills. A woman named Glenda Shaw had called saying she had the perfect home for Lucky.

``Judy came in by herself to do a preliminary (check), make sure I was on the up and up,'' Glenda said.

Shaw says she walked around the house and saw how Glenda had bought only furniture with rounded edges, nothing sharp that could hurt a dog, especially one that was blind.

Everything about the place told her it was a warm, safe home. Judy told Glenda to wait a minute, then walked out to her car to get Lucky.

``It was like they had known each other their whole lives,'' Judy said. ``They just meshed.''

Lucky jumped into Glenda's arms and snuggled her nose in Glenda's neck, Judy says. Then she laid her head on Glenda's shoulder.

Judy looked down at the list of names and addresses on her list, and crossed them out. Lucky had found her new home.

``I went out to the car and got the cases of dog food people had donated. I told Glenda not to worry about any vet bills because all of Lucky's care had been paid for by donations from people who had read about her.''

The only thing Judy asked is that Glenda bring Lucky into the clinic in a few weeks to have her spayed, and if things didn't work out, please return her to the clinic so she could find Lucky another home.

Absolutely, Glenda said, smiling. She knew things were going to work out between them just fine.

``She learned where everything was in the house within 24 hours,'' Glenda says. ``I did have to teach her how to go up and down stairs and how to jump on and off the bed and couch.

``She sleeps snuggled against my right side with her head on my shoulders. When she is certain I am asleep, she quietly moves to her corner of the bed.

``She loves to take walks and runs while I guide her on the leash,'' Glenda said. ``She makes friends with everyone she meets. After I first got her, people would stop me and ask, 'Is that the dog that was in the newspaper?'

``At first, I was fearful that I would meet someone who knew her, and would want her back. But so far, that has not happened. She is mine forever.''

Oh, and one other thing. Lucky isn't Lucky anymore. Glenda renamed her Pansy.

``She's a lucky girl, but more of a pansy - a delicate flower,'' Glenda says. ``She is truly an angel.''

Once a year, Glenda brings Pansy by the clinic for her physical. The minute she walks in, it's a fight to see who gets to take care of her, Judy says, laughing.

Some dogs, like old columns, you just don't forget.

Dennis McCarthy, [phone]

dennis.mccarthy(at)dailynews.com

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Photo:

After being rescued from a busy, dangerous intersection, Pansy - a blind cocker spaniel originally named Lucky for surviving all alone in traffic - now lives with Glenda and Michael Shaw.

Andy Holzman/Staff Photographer