Georgie (black female Standard Poodle, six years old with newly diagnosed Addison's) and I had just tried to adopt a Kimi, a shiba inu, but it didn't work out. Kimi had severe dominance issues and was very destructive. She even attacked her own mother when she went back to the breeders.
Anyway, we realized it was pretty lonely here without another dog -- a boy standard poodle. He'd be named Henry or Jacques. Enter Seattle Purebred Dog Rescue. Georgie and I were interviewed. It didn't hurt that we had gone through a dog training course a few years earlier where one of the standard poodle reps for SPDR assisted with the class. In the meantime a poodle group friend in Florida called me and said there was a puppy mill 40 miles from us and they needed to be rescued. She'd heard about it from a reputable breeder in Washington.
I contacted SPDR, they raided the mill and got something like 45 poodles: toy, mini and standard. The conditions were deplorable, with many dogs in open outside kennels, three or more dogs per kennel. I was called the next day and told they had three SPs I could choose from. The meeting place was the parking lot behind the hair salon Lavena, one of the SPDR reps, owned. While we were waiting to see the dogs, a friend of Lavena's named Gordy came by. Everyone who knew him greeted him effusively.
Then the covers were removed from the dog crates. Two black male SPs, and then....sound of trumpets...the most pitiful, dirty and stinky white/apricot boy SP with hypnotic gold eyes. I instantly knew he was the one and his name would be Gordy.
Mom drove Gordy and me to the vets. I sat in the back with the poor scared stinky boy. He was very skittish and scared, his eyes were large as saucers with the whites showing. I hugged him gingerly and said "Gordy, I am your person and you will never ever live in fear or not be loved ever again".
After he stayed at the vets for 48 hours and got treatment, he came home. He had obviously been in one of the open kennels at the mill and was very frightened. He was scared of coffee cups -- I realized that the mill owner probably did rounds in the morning and if the dogs were loud or disobedient she probably threw the contents of her coffee cup at them.
Mom frequently came to visit because she also thought Gordy was special and needed love. Gordy lived under the dining table for many days and didn't mind being crated when I went to work. I wanted him to be comfortable with his new home and didn't rush anything.
One day I caught my 68-year-old mother belly crawling on the kitchen/dining room floor: maneuvering towards Gordy. That was the lightbulb moment. She got him to realize that this was home and no harm would ever happen again.
Now, four years later, Gordy and Georgie are best buddies. He and the cat have a great friendship. Gordy is the house security system, with barks to indicate various things such as Mom is walking up the walkway, dear friends are at the door or...eeeek the mailman had the nerve to put things in the mailbox! He still is skittish with loud noises or sudden movement but adores attention, running laps in the yard or long walks, treats and being here.
Adopting Gordy was one of the smartest and most emotionally fulfilling things I have ever done.
what a lovely story! looks like a very happy dog. so glad he's not suffering anymore :-)
Posted by: lindsey | September 14, 2008 at 08:52 AM
A happy tear in my eye. I'm so happy that you saw the beauty through the pitiful, dirty and stinky. :D Looks like Gordy is now where he was always meant to be.
Posted by: morningbrayfarm | September 27, 2010 at 03:48 PM