Another Chapter
These aren't in chronological order. I just decided to write about whatever I was thinking at the time. Here's another chapter for my book. Again, this is a rough draft.
Hydro
It was yet another day to get up before the sun rises and before the moon finally sleeps. I drug my feet in the gravel to my car. Turning the key was a feat in itself. Finally, the decision to drive finally struck my brain, and the motors began to turn.
Each day I pull into that driveway, I take a deep breath. I cannot tell if the breath is for optimistic or pessimistic reasons. Guess I’ll find out by the end of the day, huh? Anyway, after my fresh minty breath has escaped me, I open the door to my car. I looked out in the front area that’s fenced in and noticed a beautiful pointer mix with golden eyes. I took a wild guess and thought he or she was dumped. I was correct. I didn’t bother talking to the inept co-worker that’s afraid to work with any dog and refuses to work with cats. Side note in relation to that co-worker: WHY WORK IN A SHELTER? Continuing onward. I check my receiving area to see if I have any available spots for him or her. I don’t. I do however, have some dogs that need to be placed in the main kennel since their five days of being held by us were up. I decided to move some dogs around after I took them outside to potty. I began cleaning, and afterward, went to go see our newest visitor.
Upon entering the front yard, I noticed the pointer mix was an intact male. I also realized he was not happy to see me. He grumbled a bit, but no big deal. I just took my time and went reeeal slow. I inched closer and closer to him. When I got close enough to pet him, he lunged at me. I must admit that I did jump a little. He was scared, but he acted as though he trusted me. This gave me the thought that he didn’t like the situation he was forced to be in: new environment, strange people, being outdoors (he seemed to be an indoor dog). He had no idea how to react.
Observing him gave me some type of idea of where he came from - inside dog since he had no fleas or dirt on him, slightly overweight so seemed to be taken care of properly, unaltered, teeth in good shape with minimal tarter, nails trimmed - maybe someone found him and just placed him in the yard overnight? He didn’t attempt to dig out. I went inside to grab the microchip scanner even though I knew it would be a lost cause since he lunged at me for attempting to pet him. One of the experienced volunteers came forth and tried to help me, but we both failed. I refused to use a catchpole on him. He was showing signs of fear aggression at this time. Using a catchpole will only regress him further than what he is now. Thankfully, the city animal control officer pulled up.
“Hey. I know better than to ask how your morning is doing since you know what to expect throughout the day. SPO’s love you!.”
“Yeeeeah,” he said. “What are you up to?”
“Well, you see that dog under the tree? He’s fear aggressive. I think he’ll come out of it, but he’s so terrified of the situation he’s placed in right now that he lunged at me. I know he’s not angry. He’s just scared of what’s happening to him. I was wondering if you could dart him for me instead of using the catchpole.”
“You don’t want him reverting to a more fearful state, right?”
“You read my mind!”
“*sigh* Your going to have your hands full, but I know you’ll get him to where he needs to be. Let me go get the dart gun.”
I know that the sound of the dart gun plus the initial sting of the dart entering his hind quarter will startle him just momentarily. Being on a catchpole will be a battle, and it’s a good two hundred feet away from the kennel I’d like for him to be placed. Imagine being scared out of your mind while attached to a metal pole being dragged to a confined cage. Sometimes, we don’t have a choice but to use a catchpole. With him, I want to try something different. I just had this feeling.
Within seconds, he was darted. His panting increased, and his current place of safety was under a bench.
“Give him about half an hour to forty-five minutes and he should be loopy enough to get him inside.”
“Thanks. This is going to help him more than you think.”
I went back inside to finish some of my cleaning and periodically checked on him to make sure he was going to be alright. Meanwhile, I went up front to see the girls that deal with most of the attitude and SPO’s. They had some of the paperwork filled out for the dog left in the front yard. For now, his name was A11159135. After talking to one of the front office girls, we decided to start naming him. Hydro. Hydro fit him pretty well. He was all white with some golden spots on his back and side. His eyes were the prettiest golden color I’ve ever seen on a dog. He was no longer identified by his number. He now has a name.
Half an hour or so has finally passed. I decided to go outside to see how he’s doing. The gal that helped me name him offered to help, but I suggested she just watch from the lobby windows since he was slightly familiar with me already. I walk out into the yard. He was still under the bench when I last saw him with his eyes closed. I whispered, “Hey. You ok under there?” His eyes barely moved. I still thought it best to at least whisper some words of comfort as I inched toward him. This is going pretty well. I finally made it to where I’m about two feet away from him. I put my hand down on the grass instead of reaching for him directly. Well, let’s just say he was loopy, but clear headed enough to realize he didn’t want my hand there. He jumped up from under the bench from being startled, then hit his head on said bench. The bench scared him the most because he attempted to lunge for the bench at first, but then lunged at me. I figured I’d step off for a bit and let him cool down.
As soon as I was going to go for attempt number two, a neglect case pulled into the driveway. It was mostly abandonment for this animal, so all we had to do was fatten her up. Still, she had to go in my area, and she was relatively large. She took the kennel that I was trying to leave open for Hydro. While I was preparing her kennel, the experienced volunteer from earlier managed to get Hydro into one of the outdoor kennels. Her and I are usually on the same wavelength, so I told her I would work with him everyday in my spare time to get him acclimated to my presence then he could be moved back with me.
I kept my word. At first, he would growl and pose a mean threat toward me. I still took my time. Every day. Every. Day. Sometimes it would be an hour, sometimes it would be three hours. Sometimes it would be during my working hours, sometimes it would be on my days off. I was determined to get this dog comfortable with strangers and new situations. Too many fearful dogs are put to sleep in shelters across the nation just because they don’t have the volunteers or workers to take their time to train these poor souls.
After the first week, I was able to sit in his kennel without him freaking out. A few days after that, I was able to get a leash around his neck without him nipping at me. You could tell by the look on his face that he was not happy about the leash, but he was also to the point that he trusted my judgment. More importantly, he started to trust me.
A few more days after his first leash experience, he started to walk on it with me. He wasn’t new to leashes; he didn’t want someone new to walk him. Walking him around the building made me happy. He was curious about his surroundings, but you could still tell he was apprehensive.
Another week has passed. He was capable of playing in one of the fenced in yards toward the back of the building. He loved chasing tennis balls, and he readily retrieved them! At this point, he would be wagging his tail in his kennel back in the receiving area with me. He would usually get the softest blankets and the biggest stuffed toy we had just so he could cuddle with them on some lonely nights. Barking to get my attention was also his specialty. He wasn’t only comfortable with me, but he was comfortable with my co-workers and some of the experienced volunteers. He’s still a little gun shy of new situations, but he’s showing some progress!
Yet another week has passed. He is now a member of a play group. Playing with three or four other dogs made him even more accepting and trusting of the human and canine species. He would run laps around everyone! There wasn’t a dog he never got along with; he loved everyone! Those golden eyes were shining, and some weight was shedding.
The end of week four has approached. I was gone for three days due to a weekend trip back to my hometown. I walked back to his kennel. He acted as though I was gone forever! I took him outside to use the restroom, and of course this was play time. He was so excited to see me, he started jumping up and down on my back and legs.
“Hydro! I missed you, too but you have to calm down. Hydro, no. Off. Hydro - OW SHIT!” He got so excited that he jumped on me and managed to get a hold of my arm with his right foot. Even though his nails were trimmed, they were still slightly sharp. I was bleeding profusely. Hydro started licking the wound with an apologetic look in his eye.
“It’s ok, kiddo. You were excited to see me. It’s ok.”
He still licked my wound. I took him back inside and tended to my mess. Everyone was asking if I was alright, and I was. “It’s just a scratch. A deep scratch, but nothing more. It’ll get cleaned, and I’ll be ok.”
That day, the decision was made to move Hydro into the main kennel. He was gaining trust with everyone, and we wanted to see how he would do with strangers walking down the aisle looking at all 38 or more kennels. I lead him into the main kennel. This meant he wasn’t technically in my care anymore. This didn’t mean I wasn’t going to visit with him every so often.
I was proud of the dog he became. This shaking, slightly overweight, terrified dog that did not trust anyone now trusts the staff and some strangers. He is used to new environments with new individuals. I have high hopes for him. I just know he’ll do great. All of this was from a little patience. All of this was from a little bit of love given to him each and every day.
* * *
I was gone for my two days off. My days off consist of housework, playing video games, spending time with the husband, and spending time with my four legged crew. My phone goes off. It’s a text message from a co-worker.
“Six dogs are getting put down today.”
What? I responded back why and how.
“The mayor called the shelter manager. We’re full, and can’t take any animals from animal control. The mayor disagrees with this and demands the manager picks six dogs.”
Six. Six. That doesn’t sound like much, but for a shelter that has a euthanasia rate below 5%, that’s a lot. It’s not an everyday occurrence that we are ‘demanded’ to put animals to sleep. What the mayor does not realize is if we put six animals down, it’ll take less than two hours after the unfortunate six to get six more animals. It’s a never ending cycle.
My head was a bit cloudy. I’m often wondering which six he picked. It’s a hard choice since most of the dogs in the shelter at that time were reasonably healthy with no behavior issues. Which ones could he choose? Six……..six.
I get another message later that day.
“Today sucked.”
I responded with, “Which six did he put down?”
The wait for the following text felt like it was an eternity. I skimmed through the names she had sent me.
Hydro.
Hydro. After all that work, he gets put to sleep? What the fuck did he do?! Why is he one of the six?!
It turns out he regressed over the last day. He was slowly reverting back to his old self where new people would bother him. There was a plea for fosters to take any dogs out from the shelter to just hold them for a few days. No one responded. The terrible thing? I’m one of those fosters. Why didn’t I step up? I could have chosen Hydro. I could have saved his life. I still beat myself up for this every day.
I looked down at my arm and noticed the beginning of a scar. It’s the scar from when he was so excited to see me that he jumped on me. I started bawling. Tears of anger, regret and sadness overwhelmed my body. Why did I have to be selfish? I didn’t want to bring some work home with me. I just didn’t expect him being one of the six. Why didn’t I step up and just decide to take him? I could have saved his poor life.
Hydro, I still think about you. I still remember you being so excited to see me nearly every morning that you jumped and spun in the air until I got the leash on you. I remember you smiling with that tilt to your head when we were in the yard getting ready to play with the tennis balls. I remember your tender kisses when you realized you hurt me on accident. But most of all, I remember your trusting and kind spirit. It took us a while to get there, but we made it. I didn’t want you to live the rest of your short life in a shelter. I wanted you to find the family that would treat you the way you should be treated. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. It cost you your life. But just so you know, I’m trying to help out others in the same situation as you. I still don’t think it’s fair. Some may call me crazy, but sometimes, I think I feel you licking the scar you gave me.
Hydro
It was yet another day to get up before the sun rises and before the moon finally sleeps. I drug my feet in the gravel to my car. Turning the key was a feat in itself. Finally, the decision to drive finally struck my brain, and the motors began to turn.
Each day I pull into that driveway, I take a deep breath. I cannot tell if the breath is for optimistic or pessimistic reasons. Guess I’ll find out by the end of the day, huh? Anyway, after my fresh minty breath has escaped me, I open the door to my car. I looked out in the front area that’s fenced in and noticed a beautiful pointer mix with golden eyes. I took a wild guess and thought he or she was dumped. I was correct. I didn’t bother talking to the inept co-worker that’s afraid to work with any dog and refuses to work with cats. Side note in relation to that co-worker: WHY WORK IN A SHELTER? Continuing onward. I check my receiving area to see if I have any available spots for him or her. I don’t. I do however, have some dogs that need to be placed in the main kennel since their five days of being held by us were up. I decided to move some dogs around after I took them outside to potty. I began cleaning, and afterward, went to go see our newest visitor.
Upon entering the front yard, I noticed the pointer mix was an intact male. I also realized he was not happy to see me. He grumbled a bit, but no big deal. I just took my time and went reeeal slow. I inched closer and closer to him. When I got close enough to pet him, he lunged at me. I must admit that I did jump a little. He was scared, but he acted as though he trusted me. This gave me the thought that he didn’t like the situation he was forced to be in: new environment, strange people, being outdoors (he seemed to be an indoor dog). He had no idea how to react.
Observing him gave me some type of idea of where he came from - inside dog since he had no fleas or dirt on him, slightly overweight so seemed to be taken care of properly, unaltered, teeth in good shape with minimal tarter, nails trimmed - maybe someone found him and just placed him in the yard overnight? He didn’t attempt to dig out. I went inside to grab the microchip scanner even though I knew it would be a lost cause since he lunged at me for attempting to pet him. One of the experienced volunteers came forth and tried to help me, but we both failed. I refused to use a catchpole on him. He was showing signs of fear aggression at this time. Using a catchpole will only regress him further than what he is now. Thankfully, the city animal control officer pulled up.
“Hey. I know better than to ask how your morning is doing since you know what to expect throughout the day. SPO’s love you!.”
“Yeeeeah,” he said. “What are you up to?”
“Well, you see that dog under the tree? He’s fear aggressive. I think he’ll come out of it, but he’s so terrified of the situation he’s placed in right now that he lunged at me. I know he’s not angry. He’s just scared of what’s happening to him. I was wondering if you could dart him for me instead of using the catchpole.”
“You don’t want him reverting to a more fearful state, right?”
“You read my mind!”
“*sigh* Your going to have your hands full, but I know you’ll get him to where he needs to be. Let me go get the dart gun.”
I know that the sound of the dart gun plus the initial sting of the dart entering his hind quarter will startle him just momentarily. Being on a catchpole will be a battle, and it’s a good two hundred feet away from the kennel I’d like for him to be placed. Imagine being scared out of your mind while attached to a metal pole being dragged to a confined cage. Sometimes, we don’t have a choice but to use a catchpole. With him, I want to try something different. I just had this feeling.
Within seconds, he was darted. His panting increased, and his current place of safety was under a bench.
“Give him about half an hour to forty-five minutes and he should be loopy enough to get him inside.”
“Thanks. This is going to help him more than you think.”
I went back inside to finish some of my cleaning and periodically checked on him to make sure he was going to be alright. Meanwhile, I went up front to see the girls that deal with most of the attitude and SPO’s. They had some of the paperwork filled out for the dog left in the front yard. For now, his name was A11159135. After talking to one of the front office girls, we decided to start naming him. Hydro. Hydro fit him pretty well. He was all white with some golden spots on his back and side. His eyes were the prettiest golden color I’ve ever seen on a dog. He was no longer identified by his number. He now has a name.
Half an hour or so has finally passed. I decided to go outside to see how he’s doing. The gal that helped me name him offered to help, but I suggested she just watch from the lobby windows since he was slightly familiar with me already. I walk out into the yard. He was still under the bench when I last saw him with his eyes closed. I whispered, “Hey. You ok under there?” His eyes barely moved. I still thought it best to at least whisper some words of comfort as I inched toward him. This is going pretty well. I finally made it to where I’m about two feet away from him. I put my hand down on the grass instead of reaching for him directly. Well, let’s just say he was loopy, but clear headed enough to realize he didn’t want my hand there. He jumped up from under the bench from being startled, then hit his head on said bench. The bench scared him the most because he attempted to lunge for the bench at first, but then lunged at me. I figured I’d step off for a bit and let him cool down.
As soon as I was going to go for attempt number two, a neglect case pulled into the driveway. It was mostly abandonment for this animal, so all we had to do was fatten her up. Still, she had to go in my area, and she was relatively large. She took the kennel that I was trying to leave open for Hydro. While I was preparing her kennel, the experienced volunteer from earlier managed to get Hydro into one of the outdoor kennels. Her and I are usually on the same wavelength, so I told her I would work with him everyday in my spare time to get him acclimated to my presence then he could be moved back with me.
I kept my word. At first, he would growl and pose a mean threat toward me. I still took my time. Every day. Every. Day. Sometimes it would be an hour, sometimes it would be three hours. Sometimes it would be during my working hours, sometimes it would be on my days off. I was determined to get this dog comfortable with strangers and new situations. Too many fearful dogs are put to sleep in shelters across the nation just because they don’t have the volunteers or workers to take their time to train these poor souls.
After the first week, I was able to sit in his kennel without him freaking out. A few days after that, I was able to get a leash around his neck without him nipping at me. You could tell by the look on his face that he was not happy about the leash, but he was also to the point that he trusted my judgment. More importantly, he started to trust me.
A few more days after his first leash experience, he started to walk on it with me. He wasn’t new to leashes; he didn’t want someone new to walk him. Walking him around the building made me happy. He was curious about his surroundings, but you could still tell he was apprehensive.
Another week has passed. He was capable of playing in one of the fenced in yards toward the back of the building. He loved chasing tennis balls, and he readily retrieved them! At this point, he would be wagging his tail in his kennel back in the receiving area with me. He would usually get the softest blankets and the biggest stuffed toy we had just so he could cuddle with them on some lonely nights. Barking to get my attention was also his specialty. He wasn’t only comfortable with me, but he was comfortable with my co-workers and some of the experienced volunteers. He’s still a little gun shy of new situations, but he’s showing some progress!
Yet another week has passed. He is now a member of a play group. Playing with three or four other dogs made him even more accepting and trusting of the human and canine species. He would run laps around everyone! There wasn’t a dog he never got along with; he loved everyone! Those golden eyes were shining, and some weight was shedding.
The end of week four has approached. I was gone for three days due to a weekend trip back to my hometown. I walked back to his kennel. He acted as though I was gone forever! I took him outside to use the restroom, and of course this was play time. He was so excited to see me, he started jumping up and down on my back and legs.
“Hydro! I missed you, too but you have to calm down. Hydro, no. Off. Hydro - OW SHIT!” He got so excited that he jumped on me and managed to get a hold of my arm with his right foot. Even though his nails were trimmed, they were still slightly sharp. I was bleeding profusely. Hydro started licking the wound with an apologetic look in his eye.
“It’s ok, kiddo. You were excited to see me. It’s ok.”
He still licked my wound. I took him back inside and tended to my mess. Everyone was asking if I was alright, and I was. “It’s just a scratch. A deep scratch, but nothing more. It’ll get cleaned, and I’ll be ok.”
That day, the decision was made to move Hydro into the main kennel. He was gaining trust with everyone, and we wanted to see how he would do with strangers walking down the aisle looking at all 38 or more kennels. I lead him into the main kennel. This meant he wasn’t technically in my care anymore. This didn’t mean I wasn’t going to visit with him every so often.
I was proud of the dog he became. This shaking, slightly overweight, terrified dog that did not trust anyone now trusts the staff and some strangers. He is used to new environments with new individuals. I have high hopes for him. I just know he’ll do great. All of this was from a little patience. All of this was from a little bit of love given to him each and every day.
* * *
I was gone for my two days off. My days off consist of housework, playing video games, spending time with the husband, and spending time with my four legged crew. My phone goes off. It’s a text message from a co-worker.
“Six dogs are getting put down today.”
What? I responded back why and how.
“The mayor called the shelter manager. We’re full, and can’t take any animals from animal control. The mayor disagrees with this and demands the manager picks six dogs.”
Six. Six. That doesn’t sound like much, but for a shelter that has a euthanasia rate below 5%, that’s a lot. It’s not an everyday occurrence that we are ‘demanded’ to put animals to sleep. What the mayor does not realize is if we put six animals down, it’ll take less than two hours after the unfortunate six to get six more animals. It’s a never ending cycle.
My head was a bit cloudy. I’m often wondering which six he picked. It’s a hard choice since most of the dogs in the shelter at that time were reasonably healthy with no behavior issues. Which ones could he choose? Six……..six.
I get another message later that day.
“Today sucked.”
I responded with, “Which six did he put down?”
The wait for the following text felt like it was an eternity. I skimmed through the names she had sent me.
Hydro.
Hydro. After all that work, he gets put to sleep? What the fuck did he do?! Why is he one of the six?!
It turns out he regressed over the last day. He was slowly reverting back to his old self where new people would bother him. There was a plea for fosters to take any dogs out from the shelter to just hold them for a few days. No one responded. The terrible thing? I’m one of those fosters. Why didn’t I step up? I could have chosen Hydro. I could have saved his life. I still beat myself up for this every day.
I looked down at my arm and noticed the beginning of a scar. It’s the scar from when he was so excited to see me that he jumped on me. I started bawling. Tears of anger, regret and sadness overwhelmed my body. Why did I have to be selfish? I didn’t want to bring some work home with me. I just didn’t expect him being one of the six. Why didn’t I step up and just decide to take him? I could have saved his poor life.
Hydro, I still think about you. I still remember you being so excited to see me nearly every morning that you jumped and spun in the air until I got the leash on you. I remember you smiling with that tilt to your head when we were in the yard getting ready to play with the tennis balls. I remember your tender kisses when you realized you hurt me on accident. But most of all, I remember your trusting and kind spirit. It took us a while to get there, but we made it. I didn’t want you to live the rest of your short life in a shelter. I wanted you to find the family that would treat you the way you should be treated. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. It cost you your life. But just so you know, I’m trying to help out others in the same situation as you. I still don’t think it’s fair. Some may call me crazy, but sometimes, I think I feel you licking the scar you gave me.