Living with Daisy in the NOW

For those of us who have been lucky enough to adopt a second-hand dog, there is always the wondering that accompanies their entrance into our lives. We often wonder...

Was my dog loved in his former home? What was my dog's former owner like? Does she cower because she was abused? Was he treated well before he came to me? Where did he learn that quirky behavior?

For me, I never had any doubt that my last dog, Aspen, was loved by her former owners. She was such a loving and affectionate dog that I KNEW she had been loved and cared for during her early years. She displayed none of the typical behaviors (cowering, shaking, running in fear, etc.) that would indicate abuse or mistreatment. In fact, I was pretty sure that the decision to give her up was probably not an easy one. She was 9 years old, had medical issues, and likely cost her former owners a good amount of money. However, I did wonder why they surrendered her saying she kept jumping the fence when I knew that her nine-year old debilitated hips could never have allowed her to do so. Were they hoping to avoid giving her a death sentence by stating the truth? Did they surrender her because the medical issues just became too much? Or, as is often the case with an older and sick dog, did they surrender her to avoid having to make the decision to put her to sleep?

With Daisy, I often wonder a whole host of different questions:

• How bad were her former living conditions?
  
• Where did all the scars on her body - the spots where no fur grows - come from? Were they caused by another dog? Or, were they caused by the puppy mill owner himself/herself?
  
• Was the puppy mill owner a woman? Is that why she is so comfortable approaching men - even ones she does not know? Is that why she is so tentative with women vs. men?
• Did she live outside? Is that why her ears have scars? Did the flies bite them?
• Does she like little dogs so much because they remind her of her puppies?
• Why did the owner feel the need to tattoo a number in her ear (201)? Were all the dogs that lived at the puppy mill tattooed too?
• Why was she surrendered to the service organization at age 4? How did she come to escape her personal hell?

I know that I will never have the answers I seek, nor am I sure that I truly want to know all that Daisy has been through, but part of me still wonders. When I am rubbing her belly, something she has only recently let me do, I see those scars and try to imagine what it must have been like for her. Disturbing thoughts I know. But, when you love a dog, a friend, as much as I love Daisy, you think that knowing what happened in the past will help you to erase those memories from her mind. The truth is that I can only start from here. Today. Now. 

What I do today can only have an impact in the future, not in the past. I choose to give Daisy everything she never had the chance to have before - love, kindness, the chance to run free in the woods, to experience new smells and new friends, and, yes, to have the occasional ice cream cone. Could a dog (or human) wish for any better?

Have a Daisy Day

I am sitting here tonight with my Daisy dog lying next to me on the couch, my mother's dog, Jake, laying beside me on the floor, and my pet sitting friend, River, laying on her bed behind me. All sleeping peacefully. Can it get any better?

There are so many things I would like to write about Daisy's progress these past few months, and yet, I can't help but focus on what she has been doing these past few days. Will there ever be an end to her growth? To her progress? I don't think so. It seems like she is constantly surprising me with new facets of her personality.

Most mornings, Daisy and I pick up Henry, another wonderful pet sitting client, and head off to the dog park. Daisy, as is her wont, claims the full back seat as her own; sprawling across the full length of the seat so she can sleep comfortably. Henry rides shotgun; always alert for the lone squirrel crossing the street or another dog on a walk. On occasion, he looks over at me with his adorable puppy-dog eyes and I cannot help but pet him and tell him how cute he is - an absolute truth and he knows it.

Usually, when we drop Henry off, Daisy remains sprawled in the back sleeping until we near home and then like some hidden radar, she sits up (after the 1st stop sign on our street) and looks out the window. Sometimes, she will stand up, tail wagging, as she waits for me to pull into the driveway and then into the garage.

But, recently Daisy has added a new behavior. After we drop Henry off, she climbs into the front seat, where she sits until she falls asleep, head drooping down  lower and lower until she finally lays down; or she curls up in a ball (so she can actually fit her lab body onto the seat) and lays her head on my lap between the stick shift and my bottled water. It's the first time she has really sought me out for affection in that way. I know I may be adding human emotion into the mix, but it's almost as if she feels more at peace being near me. Her whole body relaxes and she sleeps more deeply, sometimes snoring gently, when she rides up front. She seems to love that I can pet her continuously from that position. 

For me, it is the most peaceful ride I have ever had. There is so much love that is contained in that one small moment in time. Knowing how afraid Daisy was to trust anyone, including me, for so long makes it all the more amazing and beautiful. How is that a dog so mistreated and unloved for so much of her early life could trust enough to let me see her vulnerable? I know I've said it before, but I really am lucky. She is one special dog and I don't think I will ever be the same again. She has taught me so much in the past 11 months that she has been with me, including: love, patience, trust, commitment, beauty, peace, and the joy that comes from the small things in life. It's my wish that everyone gets the chance to be blessed with the same.

Have a Daisy day on me.

Daisy on the run

Today, I watched Daisy as she ran through the woods at the dog park. Her tail was flying high as she flew over a tree branch and then floated through a group of bushes. She looked as if she hadn't a care in the world, and to be honest, I hope she didn't have a one. There is nothing more beautiful than seeing your rescue dog, the one who used to freeze in fear at sudden movements or loud noises, being so carefree and happy. 

In December, it will have been a year since I adopted Daisy the Wonder Dog. I am constantly amazed at her progress, and still surprised by all the new things she learns and then incorporates into her repertoire. She is truly amazing. 

But, Daisy is like many dogs who had a bad beginning and just needed to be given a chance. We often write off  dogs as "too damaged" or as "too far gone". I can honestly say that we are selling them short if we think that nothing is possible. Just look at the Michael Vicks dogs. Used as fighting dogs, everyone said that they couldn't be saved, or retrained, or safe with humans or other dogs. And, yet, many of them are being adopted or have been adopted by loving owners who wanted to give them a chance. Just check out the story on Meryl.

I only found out a few weeks ago that my very own Daisy was one of those dogs that had been given up as "too damaged". She was going to be euthanized, but thanks to the loving kindness of her foster mom, she was given a chance at adoption. And, thank god, because I was the person lucky enough to get this gentle, kind and loving friend. She is truly a blessing in my life. 

So, as we hit the middle of October, also known as Adopt-a-Dog-Month at the Minnesota Valley Humane Society, I encourage you to consider giving a second-hand pet a chance. The rewards you get in return far outweigh the time, patience and commitment that you will put into your new friend. 

Daisy and I are also participating in the First Annual Pet 'Net Adoption Event, a blogging event being joined by many other pet bloggers. On the site you can see all the blogs that are participating, read some great adoption stories and learn more about pet adoption. 

I hope that you will consider adopting your next pet and save a wonder dog of your own. Daisy thanks you!

Daisy's first days

Daisy and I were off the dog park early this morning. Today, we were picking up a few friends along the way: Turbo, a sweet, friendly and happy go-lucky Labradoodle, was our first stop. She was very excited to see us and only too happy to hop in the car and go to the park. Henry, a loving, sensitive and tough little Corgi/Cattle dog-mix was stop number two. He was also excited, and all too ready to have someone chase him or to be chased by him.

This morning the air was crisp (fall is definitely here!), and the clouds were wavering between gray and angry storm blue. I was wondering how long we would have at the park before it started raining when suddenly over the top of the cloud line appeared the bright, bold sun. Yay!

As I walked along the path (with my 2-legged friends), the dogs ran, weaved and bounced in and out of the tree line chasing one another in a game of tag, or was it "chase me"?  The wind was blowing right through my cheap gloves and making me glad for them and the hat I had in my trunk. Thank god I wore layers today! It was the weather that reminded me of the day that Aspen and I first brought Daisy home; one week before Thanksgiving. 

Like today, it was cold, the wind was blowing the naked tree branches and gray clouds were hanging around, making the the day seem a bit gloomy. Aspen always loved riding in the car, but she seemed puzzled when we pulled up to the shelter. "What were we doing here?", she seemed to ask. "Don't worry" I told her, "I'm not leaving you here. We're only here to visit for awhile."  Before I could take Daisy home to foster, I needed to make sure she and Aspen would be okay together.

We did the introduction in the shelter playroom. Surprisingly, there was very little reaction. Aspen sniffed at Daisy curiously for a minute and then went off to explore the room. Daisy remained frozen to the floor, avoiding eye contact, and waited to see what we would do next. She showed some interest in Aspen, but was cautious, and unsure of what to do next. I knew that while she was fearful, she wasn't likely to attack Aspen. Aspen was a happy-go-lucky, nine  year old Shepard-mix. She pretty much liked everyone. I, of course, adored her. I didn't want to put her in harm at any cost. Luckily, no danger there.

So, after some paperwork, and some maneuvering on my part, Aspen and Daisy were loaded into the car and we headed home. The trip home was uneventful but interesting. Where Aspen loved to ride in the car, usually hanging her head out the window, Daisy completely shut down. She curled her front feet under body, made herself small, and lay in the back seat, silent and frozen. She still does some version of this today, only now she sprawls out the full length of the back seat and just sleeps until we arrive at our destination. And, on occasion, she will actually sit up and stick just the very tip of her nose out the window sniffing and watching the world go by. 

When we got home, the true work began. Scared and unsure, Daisy had no idea where she was, or who I was.  She didn't trust me...yet. But over the next few months she would not only come to trust me, but she would also come to find her "inner-lab". In the meantime, Aspen became her guide. She showed her how to be a dog, how to trust humans again and how to find her way to the couch - Aspen's favorite spot! The journey had just begun.

How Daisy Came to Stay With Me

I always like to share the story of how my dog Daisy came to live with me.

When I first met Daisy, she was swollen with milk; having just weaned her puppies - her last litter (one of the many she'd had over the past 4 years), and she was very, very scared.

Daisy, a yellow Labrador Retriever, had been brought to our shelter (the one I volunteer at) by a service organization. They had had gotten her from a puppy mill - pregnant and scared. They cared for her during her pregnancy and after the birth of her puppies. Luckily for the puppies, the group had decided to keep them to be trained as service dogs, but for Daisy this was not even a possibility. She was too terrified, and often just curled up into a ball waiting for something awful to happen to her. You see, Daisy was puppy mill breeding dog, everything bad had happened to her up until this point.

When I first met her on that day at the shelter, she was sitting at the back of her kennel - terrified and alone. She cowered in my presence and refused to make eye contact. When I raised my hand to unlock the kennel door, she went straight to the ground, crouching in fear, and froze. It was easy to get the leash on her, but getting her to walk to the door to go outside was a slow process and required slow movements.

I walked her, with much difficulty, around the shelter property. She was so scared that she mostly walked low, slunk to the ground, and she would freeze at any sound - or if I made any sudden movements. I avoided talking to her; hoping it would calm her.  It didn't.  After a short walk, I sat down on the parking lot curb outside and waited to see what she would do. Her whole body language conveyed fear and distrust - averted eyes, lowered head and body, frozen body posture, and her back kept towards me at all times. She was telling me she did not trust me, and I didn't blame her at all given her history.

I let her be for a moment as I remained seated and gave her some time to adjust to my presence. She never did. She allowed me to pet her, but I think that was only because she was too scared to move. My heart broke for her, and I knew that somehow this dog and I were going to be connected. 

I already had a wonderful older dog (Aspen) at home whom I adopted about 7 months previously. Aspen had several health issues and took a lot of time and care, but I knew that I couldn't leave this dog behind. I was afraid that she would never make it to the adoption floor given her extreme fear and lack of socialization. I also knew that I couldn't really adopt her. But I knew one thing. Somehow, I was going to make sure this dog had a fighting chance. "Perhaps I could become her foster mom" I thought, "and maybe I can help her to become an adoptable dog." It would mean taking on even more responsibility (adding another dog to my life), but I think in that moment I had already decided to give it a try. If ever there was ever a dog that needed a chance it was this extremely fearful Lab. Maybe with a little time and patience, she could be adoptable I thought.

And so, Daisy came to live (as a foster dog) with Aspen and I in November 2007, only a few days before Thanksgiving.

Little did I know at the time how much work, time and patience it would take to make her an adoptable dog, or just how much she would come to change me and my life