Lucky was adopted by employees at the Afterhours Clinic and National Coal of Alabama over a year ago. (Photo by: Jennifer Cohron)
The dog has as many names as he does friends. He has been called everything from Buddy to Rowdy, but his most appropriate nickname is Lucky.
Not too long ago, Lucky was living on the streets, scrounging for food. Now he feasts on liver and steak. A local postal worker and several walkers also supply him with plenty of dog biscuits.
He has his own bed in the carport at the Afterhours Clinic. When it's hot outside, he is allowed into the lobby of National Coal and will go to an upstairs office to nap if he is particularly tired.
Linda Bryant, who works in accounts payable at National Coal, said Lucky is much happier now than when she met him.
"He was just so pitiful looking. You couldn't help but feel for him," Bryant said.
When Lucky was first noticed in the neighborhood, he had long, red hair, a bushy tail and one eye. He was also skittish around people.
Doris Wallace, office manager at the Afterhours Clinic, said she thought that he was an older dog.
"He had just had a hard time. When we had him worked on, they told us that he was only about four years old, but he had a lot of scars on his body," Wallace said.
After Lucky was jumped by a pack of dogs, some of the doctors at the Afterhours Clinic cleaned his wounds and gave him some antibiotics.
Two months ago, Lucky's friends went a step further when they pooled their money to pay for his vaccinations and to have him neutered. He also got a shave and his bad eye was sewed shut.
Now Lucky is a short-haired mixed breed with a stub tail and a collar that incorrectly labels him as "bad to the bone."
He has no problems with people anymore. He greets the two staffs in the parking lot each morning and escorts them back to their cars at night.
Wallace said she and her co-workers have started an office fund so that Lucky will get good care for as long as he stays with them.
Almost everyone who loves him has also made a phone call to the county humane society so they know not to pick him up if he roams a few blocks from home.
"We told them that he's our community dog," Wallace said.