Our last dog, Cocoa, died. We nearly drowned in tears. I, working from home, felt the emptiness and pull to get another dog quicker than my partner who works a day job. Secretly and through residual tears ‘shopped’ through all the adoption web pages in my vague vicinity. There were a lot of them. A few times I made tentative plans with friends to go to the SPCA, only to cancel at the last minute from nerves. I was pretty sure I’d collapse from sadness going into the SPCA. The amount of hope in each of the dogs, I find overwhelming. I always want to save them all.

And then there was the day I followed a woman into the bank who had an ‘adopt a dog’ SPCA pin on her backpack. We were at side by side ATMs and I (broke every how-to-do-banking rule) started talking to her about Cocoa and how I wanted to adopt again. She could tell I was messed up on dog still and told me it was too soon for me. I wasn’t even crying, how did she know?

I found a way to initiate a dog adoption without going to the SPCA and getting rejected because my tears soaked the application; an ONLINE application. Only digital photos on my computer screen to contend with. Awesome, done and done.

…

The rescue agency wanted to come do a home check, that’s fine, a simple look around and leave. I can handle that, our home is dog friendly.

But she brought three beautiful dogs. A hot summer day, I invited them all inside and out of the smoldering van. We entered through my office, the front room, and trailed through the rest of our place, leaving the dogs in the office. Casually wandering back into the office we found a LAKE of dog mess. the bad kind. And three dog leashes that had been dragged through it in a panic. Thank #$^@ I don’t have carpet. Later she joked that was a test to see how cool I really am with dogs. I passed that test with a bottle of bleach, tea towels (yep, had to throw those out) and rubber gloves I came running back with.

She asked if I wanted to do a ‘one week foster to adopt’ program, I agreed, thinking I would coldheartedly send him back if he isn’t a perfect angel. She left; he hid, he cowered, he shook, and he refused affection and food. He crammed his flexible body into any corner. I phoned my boyfriend at work.

This new dog was too skinny, too afraid, and too unbearably sad. At that point he was a few weeks rescued from a terrible animal hoarding situation in Saskatchewan. He had scabs all over him, from … dog bites, or maybe barbed wire?

That was a Friday, we (read; my boyfriend) tentatively named him ‘Palmer Eldritch’. The next 3 days were rough; very bad diarrhea and refusal of food, sadness and lethargy. On Tuesday we loaded him in the truck and took him to the vet for an exam. He was sent home with some special food. We did the official adoption the next Friday, with 7 days of increased gentle eye sparkle under our belts. His stomach and digestive system was still a complete mess, I took a sample in to the vet to be tested for parasites. The vet called 12 hours later to tell me he has Giardia, Beaver Fever, and that antibiotics will be ready for pick up in the morning.

Since then, we’ve seen remarkable improvement. His body is starting to feel better, so we can focus on his emotional health and healing.

Today is the end of week three; he follows me around the house, snoozes under my desk while I’m working, recognizes his food bowl and gets excited for meals. I’ve started him on a raw diet, which is a lot more work than kibble, but worth it. He likes getting treats. We’ve been ‘Cesar Millaning’ him, letting him know that we are in charge, not him. When he feels scared or threatened, he tries to run and hide; while on leash, this amounts to pulling hard. So, we don’t let him walk in front of us, establishing our role as the leader and in charge of his situation. He’s getting there.

We love him and look forward to his increased health and well being.

Adopt, yo!

Tags: adopt, breed, collie, dog, Eldritch, Island Dogz, love, malamute, neuter, Palmer, rehabilitation, rescue, self employed, SPCA, time, Veterinary