Long ago in a shelter far, far away …
I’d just taken Teddy out for a long walk — and by long, I mean it took a lot of time although we didn’t cover much distance.
Teddy was an older dog, a “senior.” A lovely shepherd mix whom we guessed was about 10 years old. He was quiet, well-behaved and a gentleman in every sense of the word. No one knew where he came from. He’d been found wandering and wasn’t chipped. Days and weeks passed, but no one claimed him.
I’ve always hated seeing older dogs land in shelters. What is their pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? A comfortless institution where the sights, sounds and smells too often push a dog’s stress beyond any endurable limit?
A shelter isn’t the place for any dog, let alone a senior. And certainly not for this dog.
Walking Teddy was a meditative experience. He asked for so little and in return, he offered peace and acceptance.
When we returned to his cage, I went inside with Teddy and sat down on the floor next to him, my arm draped around his warm body.
We often sat like this, together in his cage, watching visitors to the shelter walk past rows of dogs and stop from time to time to look a little more closely — but they never stopped at Teddy’s cage.
Until one particular day, when an older couple slowly made their way down Teddy’s row. When they got to his cage, they laughed at seeing the two of us huddled in there together.
“You both look very content,” the man said, smiling at us.
“This is a great dog,” I said. “Well-behaved, and he gets along with everyone — including dogs and cats.”
The woman pointed out Teddy’s cage card to her husband. The card listed whatever information we knew about the dog. There wasn’t much on Teddy’s.
“If you’d like to meet with him …” I began.
“No, no,” the man interrupted gently. “Just looking.”
They moved down the row, and Teddy and I both sighed. “Your people will come,” I whispered to him. “The right people will know what a treasure you are.” I wrapped my arm more tightly around him, and he pressed against me.
“So he’s 10 years old?”
Startled, I looked up and saw it was the man. He’d come back!
I told him we were estimating his age and again asked if he’d like to meet Teddy.
“Here’s the thing,” the man said. “I-I lost my dog a few months ago, and I don’t think I can ever get another one.”
His wife put her hand on his back, rubbing it slowly. “That dog meant the world to him,” she said.
As the man told me about his dog, his eyes filled with tears. Suddenly, there was a catch in his throat and he said, “I’m probably a horrible person for admitting this, but the death of my own father didn’t hit me as hard the death of my dog.”
I nodded. “A lot of us feel that way. I think because our relationship with our dogs is uncomplicated — unlike our relationship with family members!”
The man laughed then. “Thank you,” he said. “That was certainly true in my case. Look, Teddy seems like a terrific dog, but I don’t know …”
“I know what you’re saying,” I told him. “And I’ve always believed it’s important to take the time to grieve. A few months isn’t a long time, but I’m wondering if maybe you should meet Teddy outside his cage, just to see what you think. And if you like him, maybe you could do this for him — give him the gift of spending his remaining time in the comfort of your home.”
“I think she’s right,” his wife said to him. “It couldn’t hurt, could it?”
Every now and then, the sun and the moon and the stars are in perfect alignment and then, wonderful things can happen.
Teddy went home with the couple that day and a few weeks later, they came back to visit. Teddy looked wonderful — years younger — and I noticed the man had a real spring in his step. He thanked me for taking the time to talk to him and his wife.
“You suggested that we adopt Teddy for his sake,” the man said. “And that’s why we did originally. But in this short time, he’s given so much more back to us than we could ever give him. He fits into our lives as if we’ve had him forever. You know, I think my other dog would have liked him, too.”
I reached over and patted Teddy, but I noticed that his gaze was fixed totally and completely on the man. And nothing could have made me happier.
Has an older dog touched your life? Let us know in the comments section below.
31 May 2015
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