West
Virginia Tails
INTRODUCTION
My
name is
I was twelve years old (that’s 72 in human years) when I was taken to the Humane Society in Morgan County, West Virginia, after having lived with my previous human since I was seven. I can’t tell you much about those years, or the years before I was seven. All I can say is that someone loved me and petted me and taught me some commands, like “Sit” and “Paw”. I was fed well – not too much, so I wasn’t spoiled and I wasn’t fat. I had a good place to sleep. I had little to fear, and slept in my crate for long periods of time while my human was at work. I know when it’s time to go night-night and I know when it’s time to go potty. And I can communicate these needs to my human rather adequately, if I must say so myself. If they don’t get my cues at first, they soon come to understand clearly what I need. I am a happy, friendly, well-behaved dog. I like to cuddle with people and I’m not afraid of other animals. I have good dog-manners. I hold still to let other dogs sniff me and I don’t invade other dogs’ space, at least not intentionally. It’s hard to judge sometimes, due to my smaller stature. Enough about my talents and my friendly disposition. Now back to my story...
I was dropped off at the Humane Society on a
Sunday in January, in the year 2008. My
previous human was moving to
The
first new person I met was Linda. Linda
runs the Humane Society in
Poor Linda. She was so busy all the time helping other unwanted and uncared-for creatures. The phone kept ringing. People kept showing up with a dog or cat that they had found along the side of the road, or that they didn’t want any more for one reason or another. Or folks would show up to look for pets they had lost, and went away sad when they couldn’t find their beloved friend. I overheard Linda say to my soon-to-be mom that about 8-12 times per month someone would come in to adopt a pet, and would go home with a new member of the family safely tucked in a crate, happy smiles on their faces. That’s two or three adoptions a week. But more often someone would arrive with a pregnant mommy, or a van full of unwanted puppies or kittens because some irresponsible pet owner never invested in the operation that would ensure that cats and dogs would only come into this world with homes where they are wanted and cared for. Frequently, someone from another rescue shelter would call to ask Linda if she had any room in her kennels for an extra animal or two because their kennels were too full to take one more unwanted body. Linda would say “yes” as much as she possibly could.
I watched the flurry of activity when a new dog or cat arrived. Linda would have to make sure all the paperwork was filled out and all the health and shot records were collected (if there were any records to be had). She would bathe the newcomer, if necessary, and then she would have to spend the next few days arranging for the creature to get any shots that were needed and to arrange for spaying or neutering, if necessary. Sometimes things were so busy at the Humane Society that a newcomer may not get shots or surgery for many days. They would have to be kept apart from the other animals, in quarantine. Quarantine was a windowless, shed-like structure next to the kennels. Sick animals also had to go there. No friendly, hopeful faces would pass by those cages to look for potential pets to bring home. I count my blessings that I never had to stay in there.
When I came to the Humane Society, I had a very positive experience, thanks to that wonderful lady, Linda. She picked me up and looked into my eyes. She petted me and cooed at me. I think I even saw tears in her eyes. I could tell immediately that she was a very special human. In fact, I would say she’s more than human. To me, she’s an angel on earth. She looked into my cloudy, cataract-covered eyes with such tender compassion. She bathed and clipped me. She brushed out my tangled fur and talked so sweetly to me that I was not so afraid any more. She dried my fur and set a soft bed for me - just me - in her own office. I curled up and went to sleep – peacefully and trustingly, knowing that there would be good humans to take care of me as long as Linda was my advocate.
And this is really where my story begins...
CHAPTER ONE
Ale’
When
my new mom, Ale’, first agreed to take me into her home as a foster-doggie, she
didn’t really like my name, Tucker. She
said it was too hard to remember. So she
changed my name to
So there I was, curled up on my new, soft bed in Linda’s office, when in walks this lady. She had grey hair and gentle, dark-brown eyes. She knelt down beside my bed and began to pet me. I liked her right away because of that, let me tell you. (Petting is my favorite thing in the whole world). She talked to me and stroked my clean, smooth fur. She had tears in her eyes as she spoke softly to me. My angel, Linda, soon walked in and she began to talk with the lady.
It turned out that the lady, Ale’, was a foster parent for the Humane Society. She had scheduled an appointment to come and pick up a dog that a family had adopted a couple of weeks before, but that wasn’t working out for the family. That unwanted dog had been fostered by Ale’ before they adopted him. Ale’ loved that dog very much and was glad in her heart that they were bringing him back. She wanted to take him home again, only this time for good. She wanted to adopt that dog. That dog’s name was Buddy, and little did I know at the time that the circumstances that brought Ale’ and Buddy together were to change my life forever. I would have no idea that within 30 minutes, Buddy and I would be riding in a car together, out of West Virginia and across the state of Maryland to Ale’s home in Annapolis; I had no idea that Buddy and I were to become brothers, and Ale’ would become my new mother, and Annapolis would become my new home. At the time, all I knew was that this gentle, teary-eyed lady was petting me and talking to my angel, Linda, in a room I hadn’t been in for more than an hour, in a place I hadn’t known even existed just 3 hours earlier.
As
I said, Ale’ was there to pick up Buddy and take him back to
She also knew that the impact of a second dog like me on her family would be nominal. Ale’ had had experience with dogs impacting her family before I came along. You see, Ale’ did not just come to the Humane Society to pick up Buddy. She also came to bring back Dane. Who was Dane, you ask? Let me explain. Dane was a 6 month old Great Dane puppy, formerly named Jefferson, who was found walking along the road near Berkeley Springs and was picked up by somebody and taken to the Humane Society about 3 weeks earlier.
This is where things get a little complicated. You see, Ale’ was fostering Buddy when Linda, at the Humane Society, got a call from a family saying they were interested in adopting Buddy. Would Ale’ bring Buddy to the Humane Society so that they could meet him and introduce him to their dog Dakota, a feisty, female Border collie? Ale’ brought Buddy back to West Virginia and after a tearful goodbye, preceded by a great deal of instructions and guidance, and an exchange of email addresses, Buddy drove off with his new family.
Ale’
turned her attention to what type of dog she should foster next. Nearly two hours later, Ale’ loaded up Dane
and off they went, back to
CHAPTER TWO
Dane, the Great Dane
Ale’ walked the rows of kennels, looking for very specific behaviors in the dogs she was studying. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she was looking for very specific behaviors in the dogs that she didn’t want to see – primarily, jumping and barking. This is because Ale’ lives next to someone who has given her family a great deal of trouble. He has complained about almost everything that Ale’ and her family have done in their yard, from the construction of a cute, little, cottage-style playhouse that her hubby built all by himself for their daughter, Melody, to the type of fence they built to hide the playhouse from the neighbor’s view. He complained about the campfires during summer cookouts and the amount of leaves in their yard (their neighborhood is in a forest) in the Fall.
He
also complained every time their dog, Robbie, barked at people passing on the
sidewalk or at squirrels dashing about the yard. Robbie, who was raised on their farm in
So as she walked past each kennel, these were the concerns going through her mind. At the very last kennel sat a regal, fawn-colored dog. He had broad shoulders and a black mask across his face. His tail began to wag as Ale’ approached, but he remained seated. When Ale’ stopped and stood next to this beautiful animal, she turned away from him to avoid direct eye contact. Ale’ knows that facing a dog and looking straight in it’s eyes is considered threatening and even aggressive behavior in dog world. She also knew that pack leaders basically ignore the other members of the pack – basically, they ignore everybody else. So she turned slightly to the side in order to communicate to the dog that she considered herself a pack leader. The dog looked down - a sign of submission. These were all good signs – he was sitting, he wasn’t barking, he was submissive, he was docile. So Ale’ moved to Step Two – The Walk. The Walk is Everything. Ale’ knew that you can learn a lot about a dog by taking it on a walk. Just think about what you can learn about the dog’s temperament by approaching it to put on the leash. Will it back away? Will it jump on you? Will it allow you to loop the leash around its neck? What will it do once the leash is there, before you even leave the cage? All these things Ale’ was looking at closely as she prepared for The Walk.
Linda
had told her that the dog, whom she called “Jefferson” after
Ale’ knew that puppies are a lot of work. She had raised Robbie from a puppy and had not done a very good job. She hadn’t known much about dogs before Robbie and ended up making a lot of mistakes in his training. For instance, she played tug of war with him. And she allowed him to jump up on her when he was a puppy. Because of these, and similar mistakes, Robbie had dominant tendencies when he was younger that sometimes got him, or Ale’, in trouble.
For these, and other reasons, Robbie now lived on her farm in Morgan County where he shared an invisible, electric fence, 3-acres long with the neighbor’s dog (who also used to be her dog), Zorro. The neighbors, Sandy and Don, had fallen in love with Zorro and took him on as their own, with Ale’s approval. When Ale’ moved back to the city after a two-year stint at the farm, Don and Sandy couldn’t stand the thought of Robbie and Zorro being separated. So they offered to foster Robbie while Ale’ was gone. Robbie was a farm dog and was better off with Don and Sandy and his brother, Zorro - at least for now.
Ale’
believed she had learned from her mistakes with Robbie and could more
successfully raise a puppy. So she was
not averse to fostering
Ale’
was pleasantly surprised to find how quickly Jefferson responded to her leads –
change of direction, stopping and starting, verbal commands to “sit” and
“come”. The Walk was going better than
expected. Ale’ felt confident in her
abilities to provide this puppy with pack leadership. So she agreed to foster
The best thing to do before a two-hour car ride is to take a long walk. So Ale’ loaded To-Be-Named into her car, tied his leash to the hand-grip above the passenger door and headed for Great Cacapon State Park with her girlfriend, Holly, to try to wear this dog down a bit. Ale’ walked with the dog around the circle drive in the park several times, trying on different names as they went – continuing to put him through his paces. Stop. Change directions. If he pulled on the lead – change directions without warning. He looks like “Spock” from Star Trek, Holly mentioned. That’s a possibility. Ale’ tried it on. Nope. It didn’t stick. She tried “Paco”. Nope. She tried one or two other names. Nope. She even briefly considered naming him “Buddy”, only because she missed Buddy so much that the name rolled off her tongue so easily. Nope. No way. Nothing worked except “Dane”. So “Dane” it was.
Holly’s daughter walked behind them and gave Ale’
some pointers for Dane’s on-going training.
Everything was going fine. They
took some pictures of Ale’ with her new puppy, then loaded Dane up into the
car, tied the leash, and they were off to
Finally, they were home. At last. As soon as she pulled in the driveway and parked, she took The Walk. Not even stopping to pee, herself. Off they went. On a long Walk. When they got back to the house, Ale’ kept the leash on Dane and led him straight up to her room where his crate and dish were ready for him. And there she lived for the next several days with Dane.
The first night was sheer Hell. Ale’ let him sleep on the bed with her (Bill slept in the guest room because there was no room for him). Ale’ had tried putting him in the crate earlier that evening while she and Bill watched a movie downstairs, but Dane barked so loud and banged against the crate making such a racket that Ale’ was afraid that Dane would break the crate or bark all night, thereby making the other members of the family (who had to work or go to school the next day) suffer.
Since she was worried that Dane would go potty on the floor, she kept him on the leash on the bed. Whenever he stirred and wanted to get up, she’d walk him outside. He’d pee. Then she’d walk him back. After three times of this, the lack of sleep was catching up. When he wanted to get off the bed the fourth time, Ale’ pulled the leash so he couldn’t reach the edge of the bed.
The leash Ale’ was using was a retractable leash. This was because she could hold the grip of the plastic handle easier and let out some slack so Dane could sleep at the bottom of the bed. When Dane kept pulling to get to the edge of the bed, Ale’ jerked the leash back. The part of the leash that was connected to Dane’s collar snapped off. The plastic handle flew back and hit Ale’s face below her eye. The pain was so great that she couldn’t raise her head. She lay curled up in a ball, holding her head in her hands and gasping for breath. The pain was so severe that she thought she might faint. Finally, the pain subsided.
She tied the leash onto the collar, pressed Dane’s hind-end down to make him stay, and eventually was able to get back to sleep. Somehow they made it through the night, only to find that Ale’ had a black eye forming by morning. There was some humor in the event as Ale’ considered that she made it to age 47 before she got her first black eye. And she should count her blessings. She could have lost an eye that night.
So with new resolve (and a shorter, stronger leash), Dane’s training continued. He was only coming out – on the leash – to go potty, take long walks and do what needed done around the house.
The walks were fun. Dane earned the name “Twinkle-Toes”, because he would lightly skip over debris, or snow or when he nimbly sprinted off of the curb. All this took place during the first 3 days of Dane’s fostering. Dane was passing all tests with flying colors. Ale’ discovered that real bones kept Dane entertained for long stretches of time.
The walks were going very well – Ale’ was developing “buns of steel”. Even her hubby was noticing. Life was progressing well with Dane. He slept through the night on the bed (Bill was still in the guest room, however). Dane was definitely housebroken. Dane was with Ale’ every day, day in and day out. He was ready to come off the leash around the house. Everything was great until Ale’ had to leave for a few hours one day to teach a program. That’s the day that Dane ate the couch.
Ale’ was hesitant to crate him because the crate seemed too small for him and she was afraid he might bust out of it. She had crated him once and he barked so loud and so long, and he made such a racket that Ale’ was sure he could bust it open if he was left in there for very long. So she closed him up in the sun room.
Ale’s friend, Robin, had recently gotten a new couch and Ale’ asked to have the old one to take to the farm. Robin’s husband and son brought the couch over and set it in the sun room. Ale’ thought this was a perfectly safe place for Dane. He would curl up on the couch, just like he curls up on the bed, or in the car, and sleep until she returned after teaching one of her nature programs. Only a couple of hours. But the dream was not to be. Dane had ripped open the large floor pillow and had strewn the foam pellets all over the floor. He had peed on one side of the couch and ripped the fabric off of the arm of the other side. He broke a lamp and got into the potting soil bag and ripped a hole in it. Dirt was mixed in with the foam pellets. The couch was ripped and Bill was not happy about the lamp.
Lesson learned? No. Next time she covered the couch with sheets and lawn chair cushions, stored all plant pots and soil on the highest shelf, shut the sliding glass door and went upstairs. “We’ll just see if this new setup will work”, Ale’ thought to herself. Within minutes, Dane was once again eating the couch’s armrest. He got all the way down past the foam to the wooden frame when Ale’ came down to check on him. Lesson learned? You betcha.
Straight upstairs she went to the bedroom, dragged the crate all the way down two flights of stairs and into the sun room. She shoved that dog through the door of the crate as hard as she could. That great big puppy braced himself against that crate door with all his might, but Ale’ didn’t give up. After all, Ale’ had thumbs, thus separating humans from other animals. She knew where to grab and what to push until Dane, much to his own surprise, found himself locked in the crate.
He tried the barking and the beating and the barking and the tossing, but the crate held. Ale’ had won. Thumbs had won again! In less than a week, Dane was housebroken, crated, trained on a leash and learning new commands regularly. Things were falling into shape. Ale’ even let herself consider adopting Dane. She began doing research on the breed, becoming more and more informed about what to expect from this guy. Things were lookin’ good! But for one thing.
Dane
was a puppy... and he was still growing.
Within the week and a half that
Ale’ had had Dane in
Ale’ conducted some research and decided to try a haltie leash – part of the leash wraps over the dog’s nose so that you can control his head. If you control his head, then you can control him with a fraction of the energy it takes when using a leash or slip lead. Even a small child could’ve walked that dog! The haltie was a real breakthrough.
But there were other problems. Just like any puppy, Dane wanted to sit on your lap. Yes, he weighed nearly 70 pounds, but that didn’t affect HIM a bit. He still wanted to sit in Ale’s lap, or sleep right up next to Ale’ and push her with his huge legs when he stretched. He was a chronic “leaner”. He liked to lean on Ale’, or really on anything or anyone.
He also liked the other animals in the house – the cats, and the rabbit. The fact was – he liked them a lot...too much. He really, really, really wanted to play with them. Not eat them, mind you. Just play with them. Well, just imagine poor Bimmer, a mere kitten himself, who likes to dash around the house and scamper and play. When Dane caught sight of Bimmer, off he’d run after him, full speed, skidding around the hard-wood floors, sliding across the kitchen tile, leaping over furniture, knocking over potted plants. He was just a big, playful, puppy who could squash Bimmer like a grape without meaning to hurt him at all. Never mind the poor, fragile-boned bunny who couldn’t ever come out of her cage again because Dane could crash any gate, leap over any barrier, and even bend the bunny’s cage trying to get to her. It was just too much for everyone in the household. Even Ale’.
One day it came to her...”faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall furniture in a single bound...it’s Dane!” She had to laugh. What else could she do? She would take Dane back to the Humane Society, trusting that his sheer “curb-appeal” would get him a new home soon.
So
when the call came from Linda to come back to Berkeley Springs to pick up
Buddy, Ale’ knew the time was right. Without
any qualms or guilt, Ale’ packed up Dane and off they went to
The
family who tried to adopt Buddy was heart-broken that Buddy had not fit into
their family. He kept escaping from his
wire crate during the day. And he was
afraid of the husband. Ale’ could tell
that they had cared for him as best they could.
He had a new collar. He had put on
some weight, and his coat looked well-cared for. Ale’ promised to give them news of Buddy in
the coming weeks. This is the letter
that Buddy sent the family after he returned home to Ale’s house in
Dear Dakota, Hi! This is
Buddy. I wanted to write you sooner
but my mom didn't download the pictures until today....so, I'm sending you
some photos of me and my friend, Mr. Sandy Tucker. We just call him Sandy. He's a sweet old man. He's twelve years old and everyone here
has fallen in love will him.
Even me. When we go out on
our walks (very short walks when You know I don't eat my food
right away. I usually wait until
things settle down in the evening, then I go
ahead and finish it off. But You know I don't eat my food right away. I usually wait until things settle down
in the evening, then I go ahead and finish it off. But I get to sleep with mom and dad in bed. Since I'm still nervous around dad, sometimes
I sleep under the bed. But last
night I actually felt comfortable to sleep IN the bed, even though dad was
there! I slept on mom's side - at
the bottom. Mom just cuddled closer
to dad and everyone slept fine. When mom goes to teach for her nature programs at
schools and nursing homes, she takes me and Sandy with her. She put a big cushion on the floor of the
front seat for me. I just jump right
in the car and curl up in my bed. by himself and he cries if she puts him in the cargo
area of her SUV. So he curls up and
sleeps in the seat. Sometimes I sit
in the driver's seat and look around.
Mostly, I'm looking for mom to come back. Sometimes I watch the people go by. I don't mind the car. It's more interesting than the bed room
where I usually hang out when mom is teaching programs. I'm pretty easy going, either way. When mom takes us out to go potty, we can never go very
far if
My dad really wants me to like him. Mom is teaching him how not to be so
scary - he's a big human with a deeper voice than mom's. And he keeps looking at me all the
time. He doesn't know that it's rude
to stare in dog-world. Making
eye-contact is a threatening or challenging behavior - NOT friendly at all! But mom's coaching him and he's really
trying. Maybe I'll let him touch me
one day. I let him give me a treat
once. But I made him set it down
first. I'm sorry, but it takes time
for me to get to know someone. He'll
just have to understand and be patient with me. At least he really likes me and wants to
keep me. He told mom to adopt me for
good now - not just keep me as a foster-doggie. He must be serious. I guess he's alright after all. I have one funny story to tell you. When mom starting walking me and Sandy on
our own leashes at the same time, Love, Buddy PS: The first
picture is of me and mom. Isn't she cute? I know, I know...you think I'm the cute
one. You're right.
The second picture is a very handsome shot of me, I must
say. The last picture is of me and Sandy. Mom wanted us to look at her but and looked away from the camera.
CHAPTER THREE
Difficult Transitions
Ale’ was much attached to Buddy. Buddy had become quite bonded to Ale’ over the month that he was living with her. The part of the story that hasn’t been told is who lay at the heart of that bond. That special place belonged to KoKo, Buddy’s brother.
Ale’s
commitment to fostering dogs from the Humane Society began with KoKo, who was
originally named Kudo (guess who changed his name). When Ale’ left
capabilities.
But
Ale’ had to stay in
Much to her chagrin, she returned to a daughter who no longer needed or wanted her. Melody had closely bonded to her dad during those 9 months and had emotionally distanced herself from Ale’. Intellectually, Ale’ knew that this was the developmentally appropriate direction for a young adolescent girl to move in, but it was still devastatingly painful to have to face Melody’s hostility and rudeness toward her on a day-to-day basis.
Bill’s reassurance that all daughters are rude to their mothers at this age was not reassuring to Ale’ at all! She felt very alone - and very useless - in her own home. She began to look outside herself to see where she could channel her energies that welled up from her heart and spilled, wasted, onto the floor of her home.
She reorganized and redecorated the house – made things brighter, cheerier, with lots of plants and colorful pictures and photos on the walls. She set up a bird sanctuary filled with flowering plants and bird feeders on the back porch. She got a job with a nature education program where she got to load up her car with animals and drive to schools and nursing homes to teach people about them – frogs, ferrets, lizards, even tarantulas and scorpions. Ale’ was learning new things and enjoying her work. But at home, her contribution was limited to cooking dinner, doing laundry and filling the dishwasher – day in and day out.
Although these were good things to do for her family, this was not where her greatest gifts lay. She wanted to help someone, to offer healing and support to someone in need. She had decades of knowledge and experience in preparing a healing environment and nurturing young and tender spirits. She was good at this; and this is what she REALLY wanted to do.
And
she desperately missed Robbie. Whenever
she brought Robbie to
Ale’
capitulated. She hated to see
So
she started the application process to adopt a dog from the SPCA in
Feeling
like she was running out of options in
She and Linda hit it off right away. And as luck would have it, there were two recent arrivals to the Humane Society that happened to be of the breed Ale’ was looking for. The two were brothers. They had lived the first 4 months of their lives with a deaf couple. So they were very sensitive to noise. Then, as Linda explained, they were seized by Animal Control and taken to a Chow rescue where they lived primarily in crates for the next 6 months. That’s when the owner of the rescue called Linda and asked if she had room in her kennels for the two brothers. Linda, of course, said “Yes”. She always says “Yes” if she possibly can. And that’s how Buddy and Kudo ended up at the Humane Society only a few days before Ale’ arrived and met Linda.
Ale’ was immediately attracted to the two brothers, not only because of their breed, but also because they were not barking or jumping. She could immediately tell that Buddy was the dominant brother, so she decided to test Kudo by taking him on The Walk. Kudo was TERRIFIED! He would cower flat on the ground. She had to nudge his bottom to get him to move forward. He wouldn’t walk up the stairs to the office trailer. She had to walk forward in front while Linda pushed him from the back.
Ale’ and Linda repeated this procedure on the stairs a couple of times until Kudo would finally go up the stairs with minimal resistance. Kudo would try to bolt if anyone approached him face-on. He would flinch if he were touched. Ale’ had her work cut out for her. But she felt that Kudo would be able to adapt to her lifestyle and her home, and wouldn’t be a threat to any of the animals in the home already. This was very important. Kudo would come into her home at the bottom of the hierarchy.
Linda was willing to let Ale’ take Kudo home that very day. All she had to do was sign a foster agreement and collect copies of Kudo’s paperwork. It was that easy! Why didn’t she think of fostering earlier? This was going to be Ale’s next endeavor – fostering animals and providing rehabilitation and training so that they would be ready for their “forever homes”.
She would learn how to love and let go – very timely considering that this was the exact lesson she was challenged with in her relationship with her daughter. She would learn to be a calm, assertive pack-leader. She would study books on dog language and read stories about dogs that came into people’s lives and changed them for the better. She would undertake this new challenge and learn the lessons it had to offer.
But what to do about his name? It just wasn’t working for her.
She
decided to ask Melody for ideas to name the dog. Hopefully, this would draw Melody’s support
for the project by involving her to some degree. She drove back to
CHAPTER FOUR
Ale’s First Mistake
Timing
is everything. Ale’ brought Kudo home on
a Thursday, and the family had plans to go to camping Friday night and attend a
PowWow all day Saturday in
Fortunately, KOA accepts pets (for an additional fee). Ale’ made a bed for KoKo (Melody picked the name) in the space behind the back seat. Ale’ had to pick KoKo up every time to load and unload him from the car. He was scared to death and would not move a muscle the entire time he was in the car. And he had diarrhea. Ale’ kept KoKo on a lead 100% of the time. She walked him around the campgrounds several times that night. She set up a food bowl and a water bowl for him in the car and inside the cabin, but he wouldn’t eat. He would dash under the bed and hide in the farthest corner as soon as she brought him inside and wouldn’t come out until everyone was in bed and the lights were out and all was quiet and still.
Then Ale’ would hear the click, click, click of dog feet on the wooden floor going to the food bowl, sniffing, eating a few bites, slurping some water. Then – tentatively – the clicking would approach the side of the bed where Ale’ was sleeping. KoKo curled up under the chair next to Ale’s side of the bed. Ale’ rested her hand on KoKo’s shoulder. He flinched. But he stayed and slept there, by her side, the rest of the night. “This just might work out after all,” Ale’ thought to herself.
The next morning, Melody was showing some interest in KoKo. “This was a good sign,” thought Ale’. So she asked Melody if she wanted to walk KoKo around the campground while Ale’ helped Bill pack up the car. Melody was willing. Ale’ gave her a few instructions and off they went down the lane.
Unfortunately, there were dogs at other campsites that Melody would pass as she walked KoKo to the edge of the path to the woods. And these other dogs began to bark at KoKo, which sent KoKo into a panic and he began to bolt in any direction he could to get away. Mel tugged on the leash to pull him back, but KoKo wouldn’t come. All he wanted was to get away. So he bit her on her hand. He bit hard. He broke skin. Mel was calling for help and struggling to control him, but he was crazy with fear. Finally, she got close enough to the campsite that Ale’ could hear her and rushed over to take control of the situation.
Poor Mel. She had a rope burn from KoKo pulling the leash so abruptly. And she had two deep wounds where he bit her. The first thing to come to Ale’s mind was “Thank God that the dog had his shots!”
Mel was calm, but understandably upset. She took off to the bathhouse to wash and dress her wounds. Bill confronted Ale’ about her decision to let Melody walk the dog. Ale’ realized her mistake. She had moved too quickly in her thinking that things were getting better with KoKo. She would have to take more control of the situation and make sure that no one was put in a position of responsibility for this dog except her, until she was certain that KoKo was much farther along the road in the process of rehabilitation and training.
It was all her fault. Now, Melody didn’t want anything to do with the dog, and Bill doubted her judgment about the choice of this animal. There was nothing to do but pack KoKo up in the back and go to the PowWow. Ale’ checked on him a couple of times, bring him some water. KoKo never moved a muscle the whole day. He lay curled up as small as he could, his muscles taut, as if he’d bolt the first chance he got.
Finally, the day ended with a nice drive home, including a stop-over for dinner at Cracker Barrel – a tradition for road trips. Ale’ brought KoKo some water during dinner, but he still wouldn’t move. He looked at her. He twitched when she approached him and then he’d try to disappear into the pillow, but he wouldn’t eat or drink anything. Ale’ was worried that he was becoming dehydrated.
As soon as they reached home, Ale’ picked him up and took him for a walk. KoKo immediately stopped after a few feet and went pee. That was a good sign. Then Ale’ walked him straight upstairs to her bedroom and into his crate, where he stayed until she opened the crate door the next morning and put the leash around his neck, gave a tug and said “Come”. That was how the first days went.
Ale’ had to go to KoKo, who invariably hid under the bed or in his crate, in order to put the leash around his neck. He never came to her. At times she put the leash on and walked him downstairs to sit by her on the couch, just to get him out of the bedroom for a while. But if anyone else came into the room, he bolted from the couch and dashed around trying to find the quickest, safest route to the bedroom. If he was really scared, like when Bill or any other man came into the room, KoKo would have a panic attack, darting around looking for an escape route and loose control of his bowels as he went. Even on his walks, if Ale’ stopped to chat with folks who expressed interest in the new dog on the block, KoKo would have a panic attack and let loose wherever he was – sidewalk, street or Ale’s foot, if it happened to be in the line of fire.
Ale’ just kept up the walks and the routine and worked on stabilizing his diet. The days passed with little variation and, except for the panic attacks when visitors came to the house, KoKo was calming down a bit.
Slowly, KoKo began to come out from under the bed, but only if everything was quiet around the house. He’d peek out of the bedroom door, looking down the hallway, deciding whether it was safe to come down or not. Sometimes he came down to the living room and went straight to the couch and curled up there.
Overall, he never had an accident when Ale’ was gone. He never chewed on anything or barked at anyone. He never snapped at or bit anyone – not even the other animals. He was afraid of the rabbit and would back away if he saw her hopping around.
Even Melody started showing him some attention again. Although she had never really blamed KoKo for the incident at the campground, she was weary around him. But she began to talk to him a bit, show him some attention, express some concern for him. Life was becoming an easy routine with KoKo.
That’s when Ale’ decided to foster KoKo’s brother, Buddy. Although Buddy was the more assertive dog and therefore probably the more adoptable, Ale’ thought, and Linda agreed, that Buddy might help KoKo adapt to family-life better if they were together.
So,
after The Walk, Ale’ loaded Buddy into the car, right beside KoKo. They sniffed each other and, for a split
second, it seemed as if KoKo showed a little spark of excitement at seeing his
brother again. They both curled up into
a tight, two-dogged ball on the floor of the car and lay there the entire trip
back to
CHAPTER FIVE
The Night Before Christmas Eve
(Or Ale’s Second Mistake)
Life with two dogs was REALLY sweet now. The brothers walked perfectly on the leash together – Buddy slightly ahead of KoKo; or, as KoKo gained more confidence, Buddy on the right side of Ale’ and KoKo on the left (KoKo always walked on the left). The threesome really attracted attention in the neighborhood when they went on their walks.
KoKo followed Buddy everywhere. Buddy would come out from under the bed when Ale’ called him to go outside for a walk and KoKo followed right behind him, all the way down the stairs to the front door.
Some things didn’t really change for KoKo, though. He still had sudden panic attacks for no reason that Ale’ could ascribe. He still had occasional anxiety diarrhea, and he still was afraid of strangers, especially men.
On the other hand, he was eating well, he allowed other members of the family to pet him (if they approached him slowly and gently). The week before Christmas, at Ale’s annual Winter Holiday Craft Party, he came out into the hallway right behind Buddy so that Ale’ could introduce the brothers to her friends. Ale’s best friend, Robin, was surprised that Ale’ had taken in two dogs. Robin remembered how difficult it was for Ale’ when Robbie was an adolescent dog. Ale’ had been so stressed and frustrated with Robbie’s antics. And now she had TWO adolescent dogs, plus – an adolescent daughter.
“Weren’t things tough enough without the dogs?” Robin wondered.
Ale’
explained that the presence of the brothers was therapeutic for Ale’. She felt useful contributing to these dogs’
rehabilitation. This helped her have a
more positive attitude around her family members in particular, and toward her
life in
Christmas
was fast approaching, and with all the animals in the house, Ale’ and Melody
were both preparing presents for the pets.
There was Li’l Miss Bunsy, the rabbit that Ale’ got for Melody that
Spring at the farmer’s market. There was
Bimmer, who was Erica’s kitten. His name
was pronounced “Beemer”, like the BMW cars that Erica liked so much. There were Buddy and KoKo, the two
brothers. And finally, Ariel, the oldest
member of the family, that Ale’ got for Melody on her fourth birthday. Five animal companions in all, who lived
harmoniously in the “Big House” in
Mel made a string with feathers attached to
it for Ariel and Bimmer. Ale’ bought
rawhide bones for the dogs and a feathered toy for Bimmer. Ale’ also put bows on both dogs – green for
KoKo and red for Buddy. She definitely
felt it was “over-the-edge” cute when she walked them, but she didn’t care how
it looked. She was having fun and
enjoying herself with her two companions.
One afternoon, two days before Christmas, they were all sitting on the couch together: Ale’, Buddy, KoKo and Melody. Melody commented that KoKo’s collar was too tight. She said she could hardly get two fingers under it, which was the standard test of how tight the collar should be. Ale’ said that she kept it tight intentionally, but Mel complained, rather haughtily, that it was choking the dog.
As Melody’s tone rose, Ale’ felt more and more irritated that Melody was speaking to her as if she was the parent and Ale’ was the child. Ale’ didn’t appreciate being spoken to like a child and said something to the effect that she had a vast amount of experience in her 47 years on the planet, and she knew this dog better than Melody. Therefore, Melody should accept her judgment about how tight the collar should be. She may have mentioned that a tighter collar helps her control KoKo better, but she might have felt so upset that she neglected to provide this information.
Melody continued to insist that the collar should be loosened, so Ale’ capitulated (her second grave mistake) with a snide remark about Melody using her own judgment. Melody adjusted the collar one notch down, and that was the end of that.
Later that evening, as Ale’ walked with Buddy and KoKo up the driveway from a long walk, KoKo suddenly panicked and bolted. He jerked so quickly that the collar slipped off his head like butter. Ale’s first reaction was to cry out. This only scared KoKo more and caused him to turn and run. And run he did - toward the road.
At this point, on that dark Christmas Eve Eve, events began to unfold like a slow motion movie. Although Ale’s thoughts were speeding ahead, trying to anticipate what she should do, what KoKo would do, what to do with Buddy, everything around her began to proceed as if she were viewing a story slowed way down so that each scene was highlighted in her mind.
At first, she returned Buddy to the house and announced that KoKo was loose and she had to go get him. “Would they please look after Buddy,” she asked, “and keep him from bolting out of the door as well.”
She then called KoKo and, trying to creep towards him in a squatting position, calling to him gently and beckoningly. KoKo didn’t even stop. His head darted from side to side – looking at Ale’, looking across the road, then behind him and around him, his eyes opened so wide. He was definitely in panic mode.
And he never hesitated one step. He headed down the sidewalk in the direction from which they had just come from their walk – making a bee-line toward the highway a mile away. Ale’, at that point, decided that KoKo would not respond to her but perhaps he would follow Buddy’s leadership, if she could get close enough. So she darted back into the house, informed Bill and Melody that KoKo was heading non-stop down the road and she was taking Buddy to help to corral him.
“What would you like me to do?” her husband asked.
“I don’t know right now”, she replied, and out of the door she dashed, with Buddy in tow.
That
single mile down
That’s the kind of neighborhood she lived in. People noticed animals and went out of their way to help them. There was always someone pulling over to the end of the road in the Spring to help a turtle get across before it got hit. She herself had done this several times. And a dog, well-groomed, and off-leash, would be of certain concern.
She hurried her pace to catch up to the car, but to no avail. The car pulled away and she still couldn’t see KoKo. Now she didn’t even bother to slow down at intersections. KoKo’s path was clear.
She didn’t bother to call his name. She knew this dog. Nothing could break this pattern unless he could be stopped or cornered. There was nothing to do but go on.
She felt a vibration in her pocket. It was her cell phone. “That will be Bill”, she thought. She answered it. She told him that she was heading down the road toward the highway and she didn’t know what he could do to help at this point. Then she hung up.
Another car up ahead pulled over. She could see the flashing taillights. But it was like running in a dream. It was as if she were on a treadmill. She just couldn’t get there. The car went on.
As she approached the final descent of the road to the intersection, she anticipated the worst – only a car could stop him now. The last 50 feet felt like 500. The intersection was empty, but the cars speeding by seemed to grow larger and larger in her awareness. If she got to the highway, what would she do? Which direction would she go? Her instincts told her to head away from the lights of the buildings on her left. KoKo would be afraid of the lights.
Step by hurried step, the intersection finally arrived at her feet. She peered down the highway in both directions. To the left – lights and sounds. Don’t go that way. Not a good choice. To the right – darkness. No, wait – taillights again. More than one car was pulled to the side of the road.
At that point, she knew. She knew what had happened. She was out of her neighborhood and the odds of someone stopping because a dog was walking along the road was much slimmer.
The truth was in front of her, several forms huddled over something lying on the side of the road. Two more people stood off to the side, one was talking on a cell phone. Two more cars were parked beyond the huddled forms. Buddy trotted obediently at her side as Ale’ headed for the crouching forms. A pair of cinnamon colored back legs and a tail came into view between the gap in the cluster of people. She called out. She knew she should identify herself in some way to let the people know that she was looking for her dog.
“Is this your dog?” someone asked.
Then it seemed as if everyone spoke at once, all the faces a blur of meaninglessness. The focus of all eyes were on KoKo, who lay panting, eyes glazed and opened wide, trying to look up at the people around him.
“We saw it happen and pulled over. We called the police. We didn’t know what else to do.”
“He kept walking back and forth across the road. I swerved and missed him the first time. I didn’t mean to hit him. He kept walking back into the road. My wife’s so upset. She won’t get out of the car. I’m really sorry. I tried to miss him. He just came right back into the road. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit him.”
“There’s
a vet hospital up at the corner. Can you
take him there? Maybe you should go to
the emergency clinic on
“He
panicked and pulled himself off of his leash.
I’ve been following him for about a mile down
Just then a police car pulled up. The officer got out and approached the scene, asking what had happened. After each one explained their part, the officer said he had a special tarp we could use to carry the dog into a car so we could transport him to the emergency clinic.
Another car pulled to the side of the road. It was Bill. Ale’ guided him to pull directly in front of the crowd and back up so as to be as close as possible.
Then another car pulled up and a woman got out. She identified herself as a vet. She examined KoKo and seemed to believe that he might have broken his back, but she wasn’t sure.
Ale’ said she didn’t know the best way to pick him up to put him on the tarp. So the officer, the vet, and another man took charge of the situation and got KoKo on the tarp. Then they carried him to the waiting car and placed him in the back seat. Ale’ got in on the other side with Buddy, and Bill got into the driver’s seat. The officer told them that he would stop traffic so that Bill could turn around and head in the opposite direction – towards the clinic.
Ale’ thanked those kind souls before they left. Her heart melted in gratitude as she pondered the kindness of people toward a stray or injured animal: the lady who called the police on her cell phone; the vet who examined KoKo; the man who hit him with his car and stood by him until he could let her know what had happened; the police officer, who surely had so many other more important responsibilities, but offered his emergency tarp to help carry KoKo; and the two or three others who stood by in case they were needed, offering to help and advice. Ale’s heart swelled to know that there was so much love in the world.
Now it was just the two humans and the two brothers, alone in the car.
“Go to the emergency clinic”, she directed, and Bill was off. There was silence in the car as he drove, only the occasional murmur of Ale’ speaking softly to KoKo as she stroked his brow. Buddy leaned over and sniffed the figure lying prone on the seat. But he remained still, sensing that Ale’ was still the pack leader, still giving the cues. Now that all the uncertainty was over and there was nothing left to figure out or worry about, Ale’ began to relax inside and the tears came.
“It’s okay, KoKo. Good boy, KoKo,” she whispered gently in his ear. “Poor KoKo. I’m so sorry, boy. I’m sorry, KoKo.”
CHAPTER SIX
The Heart of KoKo
“He’s ready, if you’d like to come say ‘Good-bye’ now. Take as long as you need, okay?” The nurse turned to lead them into the operating room.
Ale’ told Bill he could wait for her if he didn’t feel up to going. Ale’ knew that he was very squeamish around suffering and death. Bill said he wanted to be there to support her. He would go in too.
KoKo lay on the operating table. A tube came out from his mouth to open his airways because his lungs were gradually ceasing to function. His lower half was completely inert. The vet by the side of the road had been right. His back was broken and he had lost all function and muscle control in the lower half of his body. The damage was so extensive that the rest of his body was breaking down.
It was a matter of moments. Ale’ wanted to get in there quickly, so as not to prolong his pain. His breathing became more and more labored in the few seconds it took to reach the table and place her hand on his brow.
“You’re my good boy,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, KoKo. You’re my good boy.”
There were other people tending to other animals on tables in the operating room. But the room grew still and no one spoke, respecting the tragedy of the scene taking place at the end of the row of tables. The nurse stood beside the table waiting for Ale’s cue to administer the injection.
“Can I keep the collar?” Ale’ asked. She knew the answer before it was given, but she was struggling for something to hold onto before KoKo was gone forever. Bill turned away and began to weep.
There was no use delaying any longer. KoKo could barely breathe even with the tube. Ale’ told the nurse to administer the injection. As the nurse pushed in the plunger, Ale’ looked in KoKo’s eyes and knew, immediately, when he was gone. She leaned over and kissed him, and whispered “I love you” for the last time, then turned and walked out of the room.
Had it been only 25 minutes? Or more like 45 minutes? It had seemed like hours since they had pulled up to the clinic. Several staff members had rushed out as soon as Ale’ announced that her dog had been hit by a car. They quickly and efficiently carried KoKo into the clinic and through the double doors into the operating room while another staff person guided Bill through the paperwork and billing process. Then...waiting. Ale’ went to the car and checked on Buddy. He was curled up in the back seat, next to the sheet that Bill had laid under the tarp. Patient and constant Buddy. He would wait until he was told what to do. More waiting. Then the nurse came in and there was a brief conversation on the extent of KoKo’s injuries and what our wishes were regarding whether we wanted them to make extensive efforts to sustain his life or not.
After the instructions were given, the nurse left to prep KoKo for their final good-bye. When it was over, Ale’ emerged with KoKo’s collar wrapped tight in her hand. Bill wrote the check for the hospital charges – life saving efforts, euthanasia fee and disposal of the body – nearly $450.00, the last of their Christmas vacation money. Ale’ knew this was a significant amount of money to have to pay at this time, but Bill’s commitment to his wife, and to what needed to be done for KoKo, over-rode all other concerns.
“I’ll pay you back,” Ale’ said.
“Forget about that. That’s not important right now. You don’t have to pay me back,” he replied. For Ale’, this was true heroism on the part of her husband. And she was very grateful for such a generous man as he.
The staff handed Ale’ a packet of information for grieving pet owners, and all was done. They drove silently home where Melody waited, emotionally upset at her own complicity in the preceding events. But this was a time to mourn. Ale’ calmly recounted what happened from the time she dropped off Buddy until the time she and Bill returned.
“I’m really sorry”. Mel looked at her mom. There was nothing else to be said.
“I know,” Ale’ responded. “So am I.”
Ale’ set the blue collar with the gold tag onto the credenza and went up to bed. Mel approached Bill about buying more presents at the mall the next day, although Ale’ thought it strange that Mel would be planning shopping trips at a time like this. But tomorrow was Christmas Eve and Mel said she had only one more present that she had to get.
So the next day, Ale’ cleaned and prepped the house for the evening’s festivities – especially for the arrival of her French student from two years before. Cloe’ was flying in at 7:30 pm on Christmas Eve. Ale’ wanted to bake her favorite cinnamon bread for her and make sure the guest room was in order. Bill and Melody took off for the mall, but Ale’ hardly noticed. Her thoughts were full of anticipation at Cloe’s arrival tinged with warm waves of sadness, especially when she saw Buddy.
She hugged Buddy a lot that day. Buddy, for his part, never left her side. He lay by her feet while she baked in the kitchen. His eyes followed her every move. His devotion strengthened her. It was a good day. KoKo was free of anxiety and fear once and for all eternity. Peace would come now... and Joy... and Celebration.
Christmas morning! Cloe’ was there! Erica was there! Buddy was there! Laughter and excitement abounded. The family began the long and luxurious process of opening presents – one at a time. Opening presents took hours this way, but nobody cared. Each person relished seeing the look on their loved one’s face as they opened their gift.
Mel was always very excited to give her presents out to each member of the family. During the past few months, Melody had not shown much excitement about sharing anything with her mom, but today was different. Mel couldn’t wait to give a large box-shaped present to Ale’. Ale’ could tell from Melody’s eagerness that this present had special significance for Mel.
As
she pulled back the wrapping paper, Ale’ could make out the distinctive pattern
on the box. She knew this box well. She had been to the store that used this box
to get presents herself for special occasions for loved ones and friends. She had taken Melody there several times when
she was younger. She and Mel had gone together
with Silvia, their German exchange student, to this particular store before
Silvia left for
The box was from “Build-A-Bear Workshop”. When Ale’ pulled out the KoKo-colored puppy, she squealed in glee. Around the puppy’s neck was KoKo’s collar and tag! She had been searching for the collar throughout the previous day. She had been concerned that she had misplaced the collar during the emotionality of the last two days and couldn’t find it anywhere. Melody had snagged the collar and hidden it, so that she could take it to “Build-A-Bear” when she made that last present – the one that she just had to get for Mom on Christmas Eve.
Ale’
was overjoyed. It was the perfect
memorial for KoKo. It would sit on her
bed with the other special friends – a dog named “Danny” that she had gotten in
Ale’ reflected on the lessons that living with KoKo had brought into her life. She sent up a silent prayer. “Thank you, KoKo. Thank you for the chance to learn the lessons of love: to love unselfishly; to sacrifice for another; to give and not get anything in return. To be strengthened by love as well as comforted by it. To let go as an act of love. To love from afar. And especially to apply these lessons to Melody – to love her differently as she moves toward greater independence and self-sufficiency. To be satisfied within the embrace of this new kind of love for my daughter – a love that lets go and trusts. Thank you, KoKo, from my heart to yours...to hers.”
Epilogue
So here I sit, curled up next to my big brother Buddy, sleeping peacefully while my mom, Ale’, types away on her computer (as she does so often, lately).
Life is good. I wear a nice warm sweater that my mom got me because she saw how much I shiver when we go outside to go potty. She brushes my fur and gives me baths. She brushes my teeth, the few that I have left. She even lets me sleep under the covers in her bed after our morning pee, and she lets me sit in the front seat next to her when we go out in the car. Yes, life is good for me.
It’s good for Buddy too. He doesn’t need a bath as much as I do, but he does get a regular, good brushing out. He also gets to sleep in the big bed. He’s putting on some healthy weight and he’s getting a spring in his step, betraying a new confidence about his place in his new pack.
Ale’ got a call a couple of weeks ago from my angel, Linda, at the Humane Society. She just wanted her to know that Dane got adopted by a family with two young boys. Linda was confident that this family was experienced enough to handle such a large and loving puppy as Dane.
Ale’ took the opportunity to tell Linda that she will be adopting Buddy and me permanently. Linda was overjoyed. She knew Ale’ had a special bond with Buddy that is hard to find. She also knew that my old bones should be settled down into a loving, secure pack where I would live out my days in health and peace.
We are all looking forward to good and loving days ahead – for me and Buddy, for Ale’ and Melody, for Bill, and for Erica. Goodness and love, kindness and generosity, sacrifice and tenderness. These are the qualities that surround us and that connect us to each other, to bind our hearts together.
Yes,
Life is Good. Each life is worthwhile
and provides us with the opportunity to learn our lessons – especially, the
most important lesson – how to love.